


Regina Donum

by bagheerita



Series: my name forevermore [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, Bola Kai, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fake Character Death, Female Character of Color, Friendship, Gen, Interspecies Adoption, Language, M/M, Team as Family, Telepathy, Travelers (Stargate), Treaty Negotiations, Wraith (Stargate), Wraith politics, Wraith-human interactions, i still have no idea what i'm doing, mental trauma, platonic intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagheerita/pseuds/bagheerita
Summary: A stranded Wraith and a young girl who have depended on each other to survive are reclaimed by civilization when Atlantis stumbles upon them. Meanwhile, Richard Woolsey leads Atlantis in negotiations with the First's hives to form a permanent alliance between humans and Wraith, and Ronon Dex isn't exactly surprised when the idea is met with hostility from other factions in the galaxy. But there are less hostile factions as well, and there is something about this girl and her bond with this Wraith that finishes upending the beliefs Ronon had thought already challenged enough by Sheppard.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is Latin for "queen's gift."  
> I'm not sure I would consider the violence really "graphic," but between Game of Thrones and Ilona Andrews' books i feel like my perception is kind of skewed. But it's definitely more graphic than the show so I'm tagging it. 
> 
> This story is going to be quite a bit different from "Nemo." I mean, I still have no idea where it's going to end up or how long it's going to take to get there, but the main focus will be on platonic relationships and people who aren't Sheppard; if you're already sad about that, don't worry, I have at least 2 side stories planned that focus back on John/Todd. There will probably be a 3rd PoV character also.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I would like to extend an **extra warning** for: a child being exposed to basically every traumatic thing that no child should ever have to deal with which results in brief suicidal thoughts. Nothing is super graphic, no physical harm comes to the child, and I feel that to list the traumas specifically will detract from the impact of the chapter. But, _please ask me_ if this is concerning and you would like to know more. Also, this is a flashback chapter and is **not necessary to read** for the understanding of the plot, as the relevant events will be summarized again later. **Please feel free to skip immediately to chapter 2.**

_(5 years ago)_

She is nine summers, and she is unhappy that they are leaving home.

She looks back at the town once before it passes from sight, the high clocktower the only thing still visible beyond the swell of the ship's engine. Her parents continue to guide her onto the spaceship along with what seems a never-ending flood of strangers.

She hates the ship immediately. It is dark and close, and unpleasantly moist with too many people crowded together, and foul smells are omnipresent. She is miserable and she is torn with sorrow that she was not allowed to bring her pet _chiquee_ with her.

"We will get you another pet when we arrive," her father comforts her, but her tears are unabated.

"She's only doing it to make you feel worse," her mother says, her voice not unkind. "Hush, Sara, all will be well." Mother's hand is a warm, familiar comfort, stroking through the girl's hair, and she does hush, her sobs falling silent. She misses their home with the shaded garden where she would play with her _chiquee,_ and the town where her friends would yell as they ran giddily up and down the streets. She feels their loss, and she is still trying to comprehend that she will never see any of them again.

"We had to leave," her father says. "You will understand why, someday." He shifts his weight, holding her against him. "Maybe I will understand it someday," he continues, softer.

"Hush," her mother says.

"My grandfather built that shop," her father says, his voice still low. She almost can't hear the words, only the rumble of his voice as she is curled against his chest. "They think they can drive us from what is _ours_."

"It doesn't matter," her mother says. "It's done now." Her mother smiles. "It will be well, Sara. We will have a new home, and you will have new friends."

Sara is not placated by this, and she hates the ship even more, full of her loneliness without her _chiquee_ , without her friends, and full of the heavy, sweaty fear of too many other people who won't tell her _why_ this has to happen in words that make sense.

 

When the ship begins to crash she is glad because it is ending. In that moment, she does not yet comprehend death.

 

 

Her parents curl their bodies around hers in an effort to protect her.

It works, or something must, for all three of them survive the actual crash. She doesn't realize how special that is until her mother carries her from the wreckage. She is dazed from the scream of twisting metal and unable to separate it from more human screams, and she watches from the safety of her mother's arms as they walk past the unnaturally twisted bodies of many of the people she had come to know in the slow days on the ship, who do not rise from where they lay.

Outside the ship, things are worse. People are running, and everywhere there are scary, angry men yelling wordless shouts that chill her blood. The passengers of the ship are running, as they are able, away from the ship and the rising plumes of smoke, and the scary men.

She doesn't understand what she sees but some of the people are shoving others at the scary men, throwing shining coins at them, screaming and crying as they try to flee and fail. She sees one of the scary men shove a woman to the ground and tear at her clothing.

The scary men are coming toward them and her father steps in front of her and her mother, his hands spread in the air. One of the scary men strikes him so that blood flies from his head, spreading through the air.

Sara screams. In that moment, it fills her entire being: her father's blood in the air, his body falling to the ground, not rising. It's a memory that anchors all her others and it feels like the first thing she has ever done. She sees her father's blood and she screams.

Her mother shields her with her own body, but Sara cannot unsee what she has seen even as she hides behind her mother's long skirts. The scary men reach for her mother. She can see their twisted smiles, teeth bared in a sneer. They raise blades to her mother's skin and she cries, even as she screams again. Her mother is pulled away.

One of the men reaches for her, and she realizes her mother is screaming as well. The girl hides her face against her knees, and she is screaming and crying.

But the man never touches her.

At some point, she stops crying, and she realizes that everything around her is still, any sounds are far off and muted. She peeks out at the world from behind the curtain of the tangled curls of her hair and freezes.

There is a creature, crouched over the still form of the bad man who had reached for her. The bad man has dropped his knife and he is pale now, his face shrunken and withered like an old fruit. The creature looks up at the girl and his eyes are glowing.

She supposes she should be afraid of the creature, but the bad man is lying on the ground and there is no one else there with knives pointed toward her, and so Sara runs to her mother.

Her mother raises a hand weakly and runs it over her hair. "Promise me," she says. She says nothing else as blood fills her throat and drips from her mouth, only, "promise me, promise me," through her choking.

"I promise," Sara swears, neither knowing nor caring what her mother wants her to promise. "I promise, I promise," she cries, wiping her tears on her mother's limp hand. She will promise anything that will take them from this place.

But her mother's hand grows even more limp and heavy in her grasp, until she can no longer hold it. Sara lays her mother's hand over her mother's chest. She understands in that moment, in the glassy, distant look in her mother's eyes and the way the blood is dried black on her cheek, what death is.

She stands and picks up the bad man's knife where it lies on the ground. She looks at the creature. She is too young to be listening to the stories, but she knows a Wraith when she sees one.

"Will you kill me now." And it isn't a question, it is a request.

The Wraith stands, towering over her. "You are alone," it says. Its voice is how she imagines shadows would speak if they could.

She can feel the tears on her face but she cannot find an answer.

"I am alone," the Wraith says. It does not speak with any expectation. It is only an observation; the offering of a fact.

When it raises its hand to her, Sara takes hold of its fingers. "You should not be alone," she says, barely able to see through her tears. "I _hate_ being alone." She drops the knife she holds in her other hand to wrap both of her hands around his long fingers.

The Wraith gathers her into his arms, lifting her from the ground and cradling her. "You are not alone," he murmurs against her ear. He turns her face against his broad chest and strokes her hair. "You will never be alone."

 

* * *

 

She sleeps then, a sleep of exhaustion and sorrow.

When she wakes, Sara finds herself resting beside a low fire in a hollow of dirt. There is a blanket draped over her and food set beside her. She eats it, ravenous, before she even looks at what it is, then stands to look around her with wonder. A part of her clings to the hope that the ship and all the horror that had surrounded it was some bad dream, and she does not poke too severely at the swollen place in her mind that _remembers_ because she knows she will start crying again if she does.

The camp is surrounded on three sides by a grove of trees. Looking out the clear side she is looking down on a wide valley in which she can see a crashed ship. It is not the ship of the horrors, but one of the long, slender Wraith ships she has seen in drawings- though it looks less frightening in reality, crumpled as it is in the dirt. She climbs the ridge that seems to mark the outer rim of the campsite to get a better view of the ship.

A rustle of leaves behind her draws her attention and Sara turns toward the sound. The knife was lying beside her when she woke, but she had not wanted to push at the memories enough to touch it. She wishes now that she had.

The sound is the Wraith. He stands near the trees, watching her. After a moment she realizes he is waiting for her to react. She had drawn herself in so tightly, ready to fend off more pain, that she didn't even twitch when she saw him.

"Will you kill me now," she repeats her earlier request.

The Wraith blinks, and makes a noise deep in his throat that reminds her of sorrow. "I do not wish to," he says, sounding, of all things, argumentative.

Sara frowns. "I wish you would do it _now_ ," she says harshly. "I do not want to wait for it."

The Wraith steps forward in a slow, measured pace that brings him closer to her with all the grace of a hunter like her _chiquee_ , the comparison making her eyes sting. The Wraith kneels before her. "I do not wish to harm you." His strange eyes meet hers. "I wish to no longer be alone."

Her breath catches in her throat and Sara is crying again. "How long have you been alone?"

The Wraith bows his head. "Seven passings of the moons," he answers plaintively. "And eternity."

And Sara knows exactly the meaning of his words. "Me too," she whispers, too scared to even say the words aloud, the gaping wound of losing everything she has ever known is too fresh. It encompasses the entirety of her life.

The Wraith makes a motion but doesn't quite reach for her. He makes the sound in his throat again; it reminds her of her _chiquee_ and the sound it would make when frustrated.

Sara reaches for the Wraith. Kneeling as he is, she is taller than him. He opens his arms to receive her, and she rushes into him, throwing her arms around his neck. She cries into his hair as his arms come around her, holding her tightly.

It is the closest she will ever come to being home again and the swollen place in her mind bursts open, showering her in the remembrance of her father's blood and her mother's unblinking eyes, and she cries until she is completely empty.

She lies against the Wraith's chest; his right hand stroking her back and his left hand holding her head against his shoulder so that she will not fall to the ground, for she is without any desire to prevent herself from doing so. His embrace is cooler than she remembers her mother's being, but no less intense. He croons over her, some strange lullaby that should not, by its very strangeness, be soothing, but in some way is. She sleeps again.

 

When she wakes this time she is again lying with blankets wrapped around her but the fire has died and the Wraith is lying beside her.

He lies with his body curled around the shape of hers; there is some space between them but his forehead is pressed to her shoulder. He is not asleep. He lies still as she sits up to look down at him, his strange slitted eyes peering up at her.

"Why?" she asks. "You eat people."

He bares pointed teeth in a parody of a grin. "I do not eat little girls," he replies speculatively.

"You eat bad men," she recalls, comforted.

"They are called Bola Kai," he tells her. "They are as stranded on this planet as I am. As you are, too."

"Did their ship crash?"

The Wraith shakes his head, though it looks sideways as he is still lying down. "No. They came through the portal, but it is broken from this side and no one can use it to depart."

Sara frowns. She knows very little about the Ring of the Ancestors' Portal. She has never traveled by it, but has seen others do so. "You cannot fix it?"

"I cannot."

Sara nods. "We are stuck here." It is confirmation that her world truly has ended. But, unlike when the shock of it lay upon her fully, she no longer wishes for death to escape the loss. "What is your name?" she asks.

The Wraith chuckles. "Wraith do not have names. Not as humans understand."

Sara frowns. "What should I call you?"

The Wraith sits up, looking at her intently. "If you will remain in this life, I will call you my queen, for I have no other. And you may call me anything you wish, my queen."

Sara raises her hand to lay it against his cheek. The Wraith turns toward the touch, again reminding her of her pet _chiquee_. She could name him after her _chiquee_ , but that seems a disservice. "I will call you Gift," she says. "Because you have given me everything that remains to me."

Gift bows his head. She thinks he would cry if he was able. He leans toward her and she wraps her short arms around his head and pulls him close to her. "My queen," he moans brokenly.

She strokes his pale hair. "I will care for you, Gift. And you will teach me about this world so that we may survive."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronon is not happy, about a lot of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Everything before the first break happens between "Written in your Skin" and "Kith and Kin." With thanks to [DashummrigeT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashummrigeT/profile) for reminding me I should include this scene!)

There's a pack of Wraith children standing in front of the Stargate, looking around with wide eyes.

Ronon looks down on them from the railing on the control level. His hand reaches for his magnum.

Amelia appears at his side and intertwines her fingers with his without even batting an eye. "Interested in eating floor mats today? I thought I might show you some of what my kickboxing instructor picked up in Thailand."

He relaxes, slightly. "Later."

"Hmmm." She twists his hand until it pinches the skin enough that it actually hurts and he looks at her. She smiles. "Wow, your full attention. Wasn't sure I'd get that when there are some aliens standing over there that are literally only here because they are incapable of eating people."

He snorts. "That's what you think," he says, but he does relent, stepping back from the railing. "Supposed to meet Sheppard and talk about team stuff."

Amelia nods, releasing his hand. "Later then," she promises with a smirk.

He smiles, in spite of everything; he's surprised by how easily it comes to his face.

 

They're pulling up chairs in the conference room when McKay says suddenly, "What is _that_?"

Sheppard begins to pull his arm back from where he'd been reaching for the chair, but Ronon catches sight of the dark shapes on his skin, reaching out and capturing Sheppard's wrist so that he can't withdraw.

Sheppard makes a face, but his sleeve is pulled back enough to reveal the intersection of dark lines that are tattooed on his forearm.

Distantly, Ronon hears Teyla inhale in surprise. Distantly, he hears McKay's voice, mocking, "Get drunk and decide to get a Wraith tattoo?"

"Shut up," is Sheppard's genial response. There is silence for a moment, then Sheppard says, "Ronon?"

Ronon realizes that he's been staring fixedly and he snaps his head up to meet Sheppard's eyes. Sheppard's expression is resolute and without regret, but his eyes are soft in empathy, like when he'd tried to apologize for the idea of allying with the Wraith in the first place.

Ronon feels his fingers tightening around Sheppard's wrist, but Sheppard doesn't protest and Ronon exhales and releases him.

Sheppard draws back his hand and rubs his wrist for a moment, then he takes a deep breath and rolls his sleeve up past his elbow, showing that the entirety of his arm, from elbow to palm, is marked.

"What is it?" McKay asks. "I mean, does it mean anything, or just that you got initiated into the gang?"

Sheppard rolls his eyes. "Yes it _means_ something," he grumbles, but then falls silent for a moment. He shifts his weight and Ronon can't believe it but Sheppard's actually blushing. "It says, um." He squares himself. "That the alliance is going to make the universe better for everyone, and that Todd is a big part of that."

"You mean you and Todd," McKay points out shrewdly.

"Yes," Sheppard allows. His brow furrows in that way that means he's happy about how stubbornly idiotic he's been and he smiles. "We're going to do it together."

"Among the people of Sagrem," Teyla puts in, her voice slow and thoughtful, "it was considered a declaration of intent for a couple to exchange visible tattoos."

"Exchange?" McKay says. "Wait, you mean-" His eyes widen. "Like wedding rings?"

Sheppard is flushed red now and has his arms folded tightly across his chest. "Yeah. I guess."

They are all silent for a moment. Quiet enough that the look Teyla is shooting Ronon is probably because she hears his teeth grinding together.

"Congratulations," McKay says. "I know you care about him a lot, but I hadn't realized that you were at that point." He bends to his laptop. "I need to contact Lorne. It's too late for a stag but we should still get you drunk."

Sheppard rolls his eyes in mock exasperation but seems pleased.

"It is my wish that you will be happy," Teyla says to Sheppard. He smiles back at her in a way that says he realizes that it's not really the same as what McKay had said but he doesn't mind.

Sheppard looks at Ronon.

Ronon stares back at him.

Sheppard sighs. "Well, before McKay gets too distracted, we need to talk about the location Helen suggested for the summit. She claims it's neutral territory but obviously we need to check it out before we decide to agree on that. Caldwell would like us and Lorne's team to do recon. I was going to suggest-"

Ronon watches as Sheppard talks. There is a feeling rising in him that he can't explain. It's been rising for a while, since Sheppard first returned and claimed that he'd fucked the Wraith and liked it. It's not the betrayal he'd felt at Kel's actions, and it's not the tearing hole that Melena's death had left- but it kind of feels like both, and neither. He doesn't know what it is.

He can't explain it, so he doesn't try, and when Sheppard is done talking, Ronon goes and meets Amelia in the gym and loses himself in the movement of bodies, in the sharp sting of pain, and in her.

 

* * *

 

_(3 weeks later)_

"Thank you for coming," Woolsey says. He makes eye contact with each of the four delegations, some more briefly than others.

Ronon huffs in incredulity, but he does it under his breath and fortunately no one is looking at him.

The queen Sheppard calls Helen bares her teeth in a parody of a smile and takes her seat at the table. "I am pleased that you found this location... acceptable."

"Yes, well." Woolsey looks around the hall. "Our teams searched it and agreed it would do for our purposes."

It's a vast, stone structure, the remains of a powerful civilization that once lived here but does not appear to be related to the Ancient Lanteans. It was the closest any of them could agree on as far as neutral ground; Sheppard had put Griffiths, one of the marines most opposed to the idea of alliance, in charge of the search and he'd approved the location, so it had been a go. Ronon had to agree that if Helen meant to double-cross them with the offer then even he had yet to see where it was going to come from. Of course, the best deceptions were the ones that were never seen coming.

Woolsey clears his throat. "Would you introduce your associates?"

Helen's lip curls as she glances to the two queens who sit to her left. "These are queens who wish to explore the proposals you would set forth." One of the queens is staring fixedly at Sheppard, seated to Woolsey's right, and the other one is gazing into the distance in apparent boredom.

"Wonderful," Woolsey says. "Do you have something you would prefer to be called by?"

Helen snarls. "They are not significant enough to require titles."

Woolsey seems about to protest this, but, seated at another section of the vast stone table, the Wraith that Sheppard calls Kenny leans forward and fixes Helen with a sneer. "The Ancient One knows well enough that humans name all beings." He makes a casual gesture with his left hand. "Even _I_ who am not _even_ a Commander have been called by the name Cináed."

Ronon narrows his eyes and then glances at Sheppard. He wonders if the Wraith is saying it wrong, because he doesn't remember the name Sheppard picked sounding quite like that. He catches Jennifer looking pleased out of the corner of his eye and he wonders if she changed the Wraith's name. That's a weird thing to be pleased about, but he supposes there are plenty of things he's never really understood about Jennifer.

Helen's teeth are bared in displeasure but she slowly relaxes her expression. "Very well," she allows.

Woolsey gives a polite smile. "We can discuss it later," he says politicly, and moves on. "Now, concerning the gifts that have been made between our delegations-"

 

It goes on in that vein for some time, and Ronon couldn't be bothered to listen to all of it. Wraith are _Wraith_ ; they lie and say whatever they wish to in order to gain the advantage.

He twitches whenever the Wraith speak, but he wouldn't _not_ be here. He may not believe anything positive will come of it, but Atlantis is his home now and he will aid her people in their newest mad scheme. He keeps his eyes on the Wraith, but also on Sheppard and Teyla. He trusts Teyla to pay attention to what's actually being said, and Sheppard seems to be invested in this a lot more than Ronon would have thought he would be.

At much as he's watching the Wraith, Ronon spends a lot of time staring at Sheppard- sometimes until Sheppard scratches the back of his head and glances around at him with an annoyed expression. Sheppard was changed by what happened to them on Tesmer. Ronon can understand that, in a way. He spent what felt like interminable ages healing, and then even longer letting Teyla throw him around the gym because he couldn't focus past the fact that he _couldn't remember_ what had happened to separate him and Sheppard. When Teyla hadn't had the time to indulge him is when he'd run into Amelia.

Amelia leans over to hand something to Woolsey, and Ronon lets his eyes rest on her for a long moment before returning to scanning the room. Amelia is... interesting. They fell into an intimate relationship probably when they shouldn't have, but so far it's worked. The sex is great, which, honestly, Ronon hadn't even been sure these Earth people knew how to _do_.

The Wraith queen hisses and stands from the table, and Ronon tenses, his magnum drawn and turned toward her without much conscious urging on his part.

"Well, I think that's a good start for now," Woolsey says. "Let's take a break."

"An excellent suggestion," Teyla echoes. She stands from where she is seated with the Athosian representatives.

Kenny sneers at them all but nods his head in agreement. He's representing Todd's hives; for reasons that Ronon doesn't care about Todd isn't allowed to be here.

Ronon's grinding his jaw a little, and Amelia leans in closer to him to murmur, "That's really bad for your teeth."

Ronon grunts at her. He's watching Woolsey and Sheppard approaching Helen; Ronon can't fathom why either of them would pass within striking distance of a Wraith queen voluntarily. The other queens have left his sight and Ronon itches to go find them.

Ronon only realizes that his hand is reaching for his sword in its sheath when Amelia wraps her fingers around his wrist and pulls his hand against her side. "I know it's humanly impossible," she says, "but _relax_." She smiles in a sad way that almost makes him wish he could.

"Just because she hasn't done something yet doesn't mean she won't." Ronon steps away from the wall he'd been leaning on and shakes himself free of Amelia's hold. He stalks around her until he can see out into the hallway and to a nearby balcony, where the other two queens are being shadowed by Atlantis personnel. As much as Ronon hates the fact that there are far too many Wraith in this place that aren't dead, he's not going to do something stupid like walk over there and confront the queens or accuse Helen to her face of the deceit he knows she's planning.

 

When everyone decides to pack it in and call it a day, they can't return to the _Daedalus_ fast enough for Ronon. Though, even here there are Wraith. And even back on Atlantis, Jennifer has her little experiments in her lab. Ronon's hand itches. He really wants to shoot some Wraith.

The _Daedalus_ is going to hang around the meeting site for a while and make sure the sector stays clear of hostile hives, so it's a few hours before the ship drops them on a planet with a Stargate and then they can return to Atlantis. 

 

Once back on Atlantis, Ronon heads to the gym; if he can't shoot Wraith he can beat the shit out of some marines, and he does. It's only partially satisfying.

It's hours later when Sheppard finds him in the mess. Sheppard drops down into the chair across from Ronon and just sits there, watching with false fascination as Ronon greets him by bending the handle of the fork he's using at a ninety-degree angle.

Sheppard leans forward, his chin propped on his hand as he observes, "You look bored."

Ronon can only sneer, because the motion had bared Sheppard's forearms and Ronon can see Sheppard's Wraith tattoo.

Sheppard just takes it in stride. "Teyla and Woolsey have a few planets that they think we should reach out to about this whole peace idea. I thought maybe we could get the old band back together, see if we can't knock out their list." Sheppard is often casual, but there is an almost brittle questioning to his words now. He was always a leader who would rather not give orders, but he seems to wonder if Ronon would even take orders from him anymore.

Ronon thinks about it. He probably would. Sheppard isn't his commander anymore technically, but Ronon trusts him, even now. "'Kay," he replies.

Sheppard brightens, his tense expression becoming a relaxed grin. "Sounds great. Of course, we'll have to pry McKay out of his lab."

Ronon shakes his head. "Just tell him we can't save the world without him," he replies and is rewarded when Sheppard laughs.

Sheppard is gone too often, Ronon thinks, with the new job that his people have for him; gone, and doing things Ronon does not want to contemplate.

 

* * *

 

They're four planets into Woolsey and Teyla's list and they've been met with more disbelief than hostility. The first planet might have run them off with pitchforks, and the second planet had to be convinced they weren't making an elaborate jest, but number three had seemed cautiously optimistic about the idea of having a hive that would protect them from the culling of other hives and also take their own hunger elsewhere. Ronon is darkly amused that this "alliance" idea might actually have a leg to stand on.

Planet four, however, does not look welcoming. There's an old Satedan saying about peddling in a demilitarized zone that Ronon thinks is applicable but chooses not to share.

"That is new," Teyla says as they all look up at the stone slab set up before the gate. "It was not here the last time I traded with Marcum."

"Maybe this wasn't a great next choice," McKay murmurs. "We can go back. Knock this one to the end of the list."

"We're here," is Sheppard's reply. "Might as well talk to them." He shrugs.

"Sheppard," McKay hisses, but Sheppard isn't listening, already making his way down the path toward the village.

Teyla sighs and follows him.

McKay's usual complaining is mostly under his breath as he trails after.

Ronon pauses and regards the stone slab. It's taller than he is, and the smooth, flat surface is painted with an image of a Wraith's feeding hand graphically dismembered. He breaths out, then jogs after the rest of his team.

 

They're still on the outskirts of the settlement when they run into what's probably a village elder. Teyla raises a hand in greeting, and Sheppard echoes the gesture, though Ronon wonders if he's feeling warier than he lets on or if he's finally starting to understand what the hell it was that he'd _done_ to himself, because he doesn't raise his hand far enough to bare the entirety of his arm.

It's enough to get him seen though.

More people appear from the buildings until there are quite a few of them. Ronon feels a prickle of anxiety on the back of his neck. He trades a look with Teyla; Sheppard is being stubborn but he finally glances back at Ronon. Yep, they're in deep shit.

"Greetings," Teyla says. "We have just traveled here through the Portal of the Ancients." She pauses, scanning the faces. "I have traded with Marcum before but I do not see him here."

The elder who was the first they saw says, "Marcum no longer lives among us." His expression is foreboding.

"Well, I guess we'll be on our way then," McKay puts in, but no one is listening to him. Ronon grabs him by the vest and shoves McKay behind him.

The elder reaches out and seizes Sheppard's wrist, pulling his hand forward and baring his forearm. "What devilry is this?"

Sheppard's chin comes up in that way that means he about to do something stupid and Ronon swears under his breath. "It's a Wraith marking," Sheppard says easily in his driest voice and Ronon could almost hit him. "There's actually a long and fascinating history behind the language they use for markings. Would you like to hear it?"

The people around them begin to hiss, some of them lifting items they wear around their neck that Ronon recognizes as totems against the Wraith.

Ronon was working himself and McKay to the edge of the crowd, so when Teyla kicks the elder to the ground and begins to shoot her P90 over the heads of the villagers, Ronon stuns the few remaining people between them and the path, clearing the way for McKay who leads the way to the gate. They can hear continued gunfire behind them and Ronon covers McKay as he starts dialing. Teyla joins them before the portal locks, but Sheppard is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Sheppard?" McKay asks, needlessly.

"You stay," Ronon growls to Teyla, gesturing to McKay and the gate. Her expression is twisted and unhappy but she nods.

Ronon moves off through the undergrowth, which is full of clingy vines and thistles with giant thorns. He doesn't get far before he is surrounded by the natives. "Wraith-cursed!" they cry. "You brought the Wraith-cursed here!" Ronon hisses when one of their weapons opens a long scratch in his side. He's stunning them as fast as he can, but they keep coming. He hears Teyla shout- honestly he's not sure if it's something he actually hears or if what remains of his common sense just speaks in Teyla's voice- and he drops the two on the path and barrels back to the gate.

Teyla is tense and McKay worried when Ronon shakes his head. "There's too many of them. We should come back with a jumper. And a few extra squads."

McKay looks stubborn and like he's about to speak. Ronon does _not_ need to hear anyone saying _anything_ about how leaving Sheppard behind is a shit idea, because he's already beaten himself over the head with it senselessly since Tesmer.

"We'll come back," Teyla says so that Ronon doesn't have to, and she shoves McKay so that he stumbles back through the portal. She looks at Ronon intently, like maybe she knows that he was thinking about sending the other two on and staying himself. "Go," she says. He hasn't heard it often from her, but it is a tone of voice that brokers no argument. She will not be leaving without him going ahead of her. Ronon growls but steps through the portal.

 

They do come back, with Lorne's team and a jumper. There's no sign of Sheppard, anywhere.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Gift pass a rather standard day on their planet, and then make a discovery.

The sun rises out of a night with only a sliver of a single moon to light it. As Sara works her knife over the ash sapling slightly longer than her height that lies over her lap, the day grows warm around her.

She is sitting by the stone firepit in her and Gift's main camp. She slowly drags the blade of her knife down the pointed tip she has created on one end of the sapling. The width of the sapling is slightly narrower than she'd prefer but it's what she has to work with at the moment. This is her first attempt at a hunting spear, and she expects her early attempts won't be her best in any case. When she's finally satisfied with the point, she holds the spear-to-be farther down the shaft and tips the tip toward the fire, rotating it over the flames.

Her eyes are on her task, but Gift is a very present and unhappy shadow at her side. Sara sighs. "I need to learn all the pieces of hunting," she reminds him. She fed herself yesterday with fish she speared from the stream; her fishing spear features a tri-pronged tip she designed after watching the Bola Kai and which she made from pieces she scavenged from Gift's ship. Today she has her sights set on the colony of ground squeakers that live in the low end of the valley, the end farthest from Gift's downed ship.

"I will provide you with whatever you require, my queen," Gift grumbles under his breath with that undertone of argumentativeness that she finds endearing but that also frustrates her.

"I know," she replies, because it is true. "But I must learn it myself, Gift."

Gift sighs.

Her new spear tip is dried and hardened and she pulls it back to test it against her finger, shaking her hand when it is still warm. She picks up her knife again to rehone the point. "You will always be the better hunter," she reminds Gift. "And you will always keep me safe from the Bola Kai." She glances at him, seeking his eyes. "But I am a woman now and no longer a child. I need to learn."

Gift once again proves that he understands her better than she knows herself when he says, "You fear being alone and not knowing how to provide for yourself. I tell you that I will always be here, and they are words that have more truth than speaking can tell. But it is the nature of queens to be prepared for what may come. It is well."

Sara looks at him with surprise. "Gift." Further words desert her, and she reaches for him. He presses his cheek into the curve of her hand. She has grown a bit since they first came to each other, and her hand is almost large enough to spread over the entirely of his cheek. Her fingers stroke his smooth skin. "Every day, I know I would be nothing without you, Gift."

"A queen needs her hive," he murmurs, raising his own left hand to reach and cup her cheek in turn.

She smiles at him. "So you know that I do not doubt you, only fate?"

He sighs in acquiescence, and she returns to her spear, rubbing the tip with rendered oil.

When she is ready with her weapon she rebraids her dark hair, attempting to recapture the curls that have come free since she last did so, and twists it into a knot at the back of her head. She stands and makes her way to the lower valley. Gift retreats to the high ridge, but, as has been true for all the days she remembers, he is never beyond her sight or her call.

 

Sara stalks the squeakers all through the length of the day that remains to her, and it is not until the sun is low that either her arm becomes quicker or her prey becomes wearier and she achieves a throw that lands her her supper.  

She gives a cheer and Gift, despite his reluctance toward her activities, gives a long, ululating cry in response. She grins as she looks up at him, her skin flashing warm and bronze against the sun as she raises her cupped hands to her mouth and tries, to his amusement, to reproduce the sound. She shields her eyes as she watches him descend the ridge and come to her. He bends down to her and rests his forehead against hers for a long moment. With his face so close to hers she closes her brown eyes to narrow slits to look up at the pale yellow of his own eyes which have become so dear and familiar to her.

They are at the lowest end of the valley, near the stream where she fished days before, and they are close to the only place where the ridge that surrounds the valley is broken. The fast-moving water cuts through the stone and there is the possibility to pass through to the plain where the Portal stands. Through the break in the high ridge, Sara can hear the drumbeats of the Bola Kai as the savage tribesmen process to the Portal of the Ancestors, as they do every moondark to perform ceremonies in an attempt to open it.

Sara rolls her eyes. She has spied on their ritual many times, and it never works. The portal never opens.

But Gift stands tall, listening to the drums. He is distracted from his mood of celebration and his hand is flexing.

Sara frowns. How long as it been since Gift has fed? She can't remember. Has she been so neglectful? She reaches for Gift's left hand.

He startles when she takes it, then kneels beside her. "My apologies, my queen."

Sara shakes her head, wishing, not for the first time, that she really _was_ his queen so that she could assure him truly. "No mind, no mind," she murmurs as she pets his pale hair. "I have neglected you, my Gift." He shakes his head, but she talks over his denial. "I have not seen to you as I should. Help me with a fire for my kill, and then tonight while the moons are full dark we will hunt among the Bola Kai. We will show them what comes through the portal when they do their silly ritual." She gives Gift her best bloodthirsty grin, and he croons in response.

Sara skins and guts the squeaker with practiced ease; Gift may have been the sole hunter when she was younger, but both of them have spent many long days spying on the camp of the Bola Kai to learn how food is prepared, and she has had much practice in the many days since. Gift gathers her some moss and twigs and she starts a cook fire, stripping the meat from the small bones as she eats her fill. Before full dark sets in she wanders among some bushes in search of late berries.

When the stars give the only light above them, they climb the ridge. While it is easier to use the stream to pass out onto the plain than to fight the current to come _into_ the valley, the water is fast-moving as it flows down from the mountains, especially here where it squeezes through the ridge and runs hip deep even for Gift. Climbing the ridge is easier, for them at any rate. The Bola Kai attempt the climb even more rarely than they attempt the stream, as the way is steep and the benefit for them is none. They have learned that Gift can always hear them coming, that Sara is never more than shouting distance from Gift, and that the pair of them vanish into the mountains like smoke when the Bola Kai come seeking them.

Sara tucks her spear across her shoulders and hops on Gift's back; she has been running up and down the length of this ridge for what feels like all of her life, but his legs are still longer than hers, and he is able to move more silently, and more confidently in the dark. She holds onto the rough leather on the back of his coat and peers over his shoulder as he crests the hill. Gift bears her weight easily, and even jumps up into one of the trees of the forested area as they make their way down the other side of the ridge. They slip from branch to branch, tree to tree, Sara giddy with anticipation.

When they are close enough, Gift stops. Sara releases her hold on him, pausing to turn his face to hers and kiss his forehead before she sends him forth to hunt. She grins as she watches him go.

The Bola Kai are dancing around their fire, cutting themselves and letting the blood spray thick in the air as the pace of the drums increases, interspersed with guttural chanting. Suddenly one of them cries out in shock and alarm, and the drumbeats fall away as the men scatter.

Sara grins, clapping her hands. Gift has long been the fearful hunter of the Bola Kai, and they know it is he who comes now; there is no one else on this world for it to be.

The Bola Kai are yelling and running. Sara sights at them down the shaft of her spear but she doesn't loose; there has been conflict between them before, but now is not her hunt. And in any case, her position isn't good enough for a spear cast to do significant harm.

Gift is playing with them. They run from images only they can see, and trip and fall, and are snatched up by Gift only for him to release them and let them run from him. When they come at him with weapons he does not flinch from their attacks and only roars at them until they quiver, and he takes the blades from their hands and casts them on the ground. In this night he is their death, and they know it.

Sara watches as Gift finally chooses his prey and brings the man to the ground beneath the tree where Sara perches. Gift places his right hand against the man's chest, and roars in pleasure as he drinks of the Bola Kai's life. Sara likes to watch. She likes to see death come for those who brought it to the ones she cared for. She doesn't remember the faces of her mother and father, but she remembers that the Bola Kai killed them- the spray of her father's blood, her scream, her mother's blank eyes.

She guards Gift from the tree, watching over him as he feeds. Though, as she is watching this night she notices for the first time that there are not as many of the Bola Kai as there were. This is just a ceremonial party; their main camp is far across the plain, but she remembers one time when she stood on the ridge with Gift and looked down upon their antics and her attempt to count the party faltered at a hundred. It is dark, so perhaps their numbers are hidden by the night and behind trees.

When they climb the ridge to return to their camp, Gift flushed and well pleased with himself as he is only rarely, Sara pauses on the top of the ridge. "Let's stay here for the night. I want to see the whole sky above me."

Gift only nods, and sits beside her when she lies down. He sleeps very little, especially after he has just fed. She knows he may wander about in the night, but he will never be far from her.

Sara looks up at the stars. She used to know the names of some of the patterns they made, but she no longer remembers if the names she calls them are the ones that she learned as a child, under different stars, or if they are all ones that she herself made up. "The Hunter is low tonight," she murmurs. "The Hive is sweeping toward him." She points, her arm much slenderer than Gift's but still hard with muscle.

Gift rests his right hand on her forehead, brushing it back over her hair. Having just fed, his feeding organ is less interested in exploring her own features, and she is pleased that he reaches for her with his right hand. "That is as it should be," he says softly.

Sara frowns. "Gift, do you miss your hive?" She has asked him this many times and she always gets a different answer.

Today he pauses before answering. "I do not miss my old queen," he says.

Sara nods. "I know." She takes his hand and wraps her fingers around it, holding it against her stomach in a parody of a hug. They have spoken of his previous queen only once.

The stars rise and pass and swirl over them, and eventually Sara passes into a dose and finally into true sleep.

 

She wakes before dawn to find that Gift brought her breakfast- a handful of berries nestled on a leaf and a single egg from a whistler nest- and left again. She eats and watches the sunrise.

It's a magnificent thing, and it always calms her. If the sun will continue to rise then she must continue to rise to meet it; it is like a promise she made to herself, between herself and the sun. Perhaps it is silly, as the sun will not falter no matter what she promises, but she has always been the lesser of all the opposing forces in her life so she doesn't mind the sun's disregard.

In the light of day, Sara examines the Bola Kai, the majority of whom make a ragged line as they trek back across the plain to their main encampment while a small group is clustered near the Portal. She can make out their distant shapes as they move away, and their ceremonial party is indeed much reduced; she can number those who flee on her fingers. She remembers a time when their hunters filled the plain before the portal like a restless colony of squeakers as she and Gift fled before them, up into the mountains where their numbers brought them no aid. Has something happened? Did some calamity befall them that she did not notice? She frowns, thinking. There are women, and young, at the tribe's main camp; Gift never hunts females, because in a controlled population females guarantee the generation of more prey. Something else must have happened to them. She sighs. Perhaps she is overreacting; perhaps the Bola Kai also grow tired of their antics before the portal and not as many wish to come and view the ceremony.

Gift melts out of the trees and appears at her side. Sara is not in the least startled by his appearance; she's pretty sure she can sense him, though it's possible that living with him for all the years she can remember has conditioned her to his way of moving so that she can pick his form out of any dim or dawning light and know who it is that approaches her.

"Gift," she says in the beginning of a question, but then something unexpected happens.

The symbols on the portal begin to glow.

 

It's so unexpected that Sara doesn't know what to do about it at first. Beside her, Gift straightens in interest.

"Gift," she says excitedly, but he is already reaching for her, gathering her into his arms as he races down the ridge.

When they reach last night's tree it's just in time to see the portal whoosh outward and then leave a pool of standing water. Sara stares at it excitedly. "What is happening?" she whispers.

"The Bola Kai's ceremony has borne fruit," Gift jokes, and Sara guffaws as silently as possible.

Not that the Bola Kai notice her; the small group that had remained stands now watching, captivated by the portal. They gather round it, and one tries to run through the standing water.

Gift's arm tightens around Sara. "The portal comes from the other side," he murmurs. "You cannot pass through from this side."

Sara frowns. It would seem like it was the answer to them escaping the permanence of this exile, but she trusts that Gift knows more about the portal than she does.

The rest of the Bola Kai seem intent upon following their companion through the standing water, which Sara almost calls out to prevent; every one of them that dies is a meal that Gift must forsake.

But a bundle comes flying through the portal, and then the portal disengages. The bundle hits the ground and rolls with such force that it comes to rest against a tree not far from where Sara and Gift are watching.

It's near enough for Sara to see that it isn't a bundle at all- it's a man.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronon gets some bad news, and some good news, but still doesn't get to shoot anything.

They return to the planet of Da'sha but Sheppard is nowhere to be found. Lorne's scans in the jumper don't pick up his transmitter.

"He could have gone through the gate," McKay argues. "Or he's shielded against our scans somehow."

Lorne sets the jumper down near the gate. "Pull the recent dial-out addresses," he says, but his tone is doubtful.

 

Ronon had intended to return to the settlement alone and scout before their entire group comes in full force, but he can't shake Teyla or McKay, and once Teyla announces what Ronon's trying to do he can't shake Lorne and his team either. Ronon was half expecting Teyla's insistence, but McKay's protest is just as loud; Ronon feels like he should be surprised by this, but he isn't.

The villagers aren't any more interested in answering questions when seven strangers show up, but without Sheppard waving his idiotic tattoo in front of them at least they haven't brought out the pitchforks yet.

"We have returned for our companion," Teyla says to the elder.

It's not the same elder they saw last time and Ronon doesn't like that. He's not sure any of these people are the same people who were here the last time. After a bit more description, the elder realizes who they're talking about. "The Wraith-cursed," he murmurs, and moves his hand in a ward sign. "He is not here."

Ronon's hand tightens around the grip of his magnum. "Where is he," he grits out.

The elder looks at him like he's stupid. "The Wraith-cursed are not permitted to live," he says. "He was sacrificed."

"But that can't be," McKay denies, even as Ronon feels something heavy settle inside him.

The elder beckons to one of the villagers, and she produces a small bundle. Teyla takes it from her. Teyla's hands do not hesitate even as the painful thing inside Ronon settles into something harder and more certain, and Teyla unfolds the bundle to reveal that it is Sheppard's tac vest, and folded inside of it is his sidearm and holster- still the standard issue Beretta he never stopped bitching about, but he never got around to replacing his Colt after Tesmer. Teyla lifts Sheppard's GDO out of the pocket of the vest, silently meeting Ronon's eyes.

It's both too much and not enough. There is nothing here that _is_ Sheppard, but also nothing that can make them believe he's somehow escaped. If Sheppard managed to escape the villagers and was on the planet, the jumper should have been able to locate his transmitter. The village is too close to the Stargate for it to be likely that Sheppard was able to reach it undetected and leave.

"The bodies of the Wraith-cursed are consumed by the Well and not permitted to lie upon the ground," the elder says. He narrows his eyes at them. "Be pleased that the cursed one has been purged from among you."

Ronon _is_ surprised that instead of punching the elder in the face he ends up having to restrain McKay from punching the man a second time after McKay sends the elder sprawling on the ground.

 

They report back to Atlantis and contact some of their allies, in case Sheppard _was_ able to make his way off the planet. But no one has seen Sheppard.

"He has something of a history of doing this," Woolsey says with a frown. "So we'll keep trying."

McKay doesn't even complain about his swollen fingers as he sorts through the information he pulled from the Da'sha Stargate.

But Ronon knows they will find nothing. Sheppard has been almost preternaturally lucky in the past, but he marked himself with the Wraith and the universe has finally caught up with him.

 

* * *

 

 

McKay gives a shuddering breath as the jumper settles downs on the hive surface under his direction. "I know this was my idea, but is it too late to change my mind?"

Teyla doesn't look at him. "It was a good thought, Rodney. We should tell him what has happened, and see if there are resources the Wraith have which can aid us in further searching."

Ronon scoffs; Wraith have plenty of resources for finding _people_ , just probably not ones that are useful for finding Sheppard.

The door of the jumper opens.

A Wraith who is not Todd waits for them. "I will bring you to the Commander," he says shortly, as if not pleased by this duty.

Ronon grins at him, nastily, also not pleased by the duty that brings them here.

Teyla's hand on his arm doesn't really stop him. "Do not _provoke_ him, Ronon," she reminds him.

Ronon just shakes his head. It's the damn Wraith's fault anyway. Everything is their fault, and he's not going to forget that.

 

They are brought directly to where Todd is. He is speaking with another Wraith, but dismisses the other when their guide enters and turns his attention to them. And when they have finished entering and there are only three of them, Todd's eyes narrow. "Where is Sheppard?"

Teyla breathes in slowly, gathering her thoughts and her words, always the diplomat.

Ronon isn't here for that. "He's dead."

Todd snarls at him, stepping toward Ronon, his right hand raised in threat. When his strike falls, Ronon will be ready with his magnum.

"Stop it!" Teyla demands. She does not step between them, but Todd halts and Ronon lets the Wraith stew in the words for a moment because he knows he'll get his chance soon.

"You lie," Todd says, his voice a desperate husk. Ronon is staring at him and he would admit that he's surprised by the depth of feeling he sees in the Wraith's eyes.

"We do not yet believe that fate has befallen him," Teyla says angrily.

"But he's gone," McKay says. "We ran into some… Well, we got separated and now Sheppard's not on the planet, and no one else has seen him." He sounds hesitant in a way that Ronon's rarely heard him, and he thinks that's what convinces the Wraith of the truth.

Todd steps back, his mouth opening as he breathes in with a shiver. Ronon is ready, braced for the attack. But Todd turns and sweeps out of the room.

None of them speak for a moment.

Ronon growls. "He's fucking dead," he yells after the departed Wraith, shrugging off Teyla's anger. "And it's your fault! Just like everything!" He pulls his magnum; the Wraith is gone, but the urge is in him to strike out, to cause _some_ harm in return for everything that's been given to him.

Teyla's fingers are like metal bands around his wrist, immobilizing, and the magnum falls from his grip.

 

They leave, but it doesn't change anything. They still have to return to an Atlantis that doesn't have Sheppard, and work toward building a peace that Ronon doesn't even want if Sheppard isn't there to want it. It would be easier to kill the Wraith.

Woolsey meets them and talks about schedulings and meetings, and Ronon can't even hear what the man is saying. He walks out onto one of the balconies and looks at the ocean. He agreed with McKay that Sheppard would have wanted them to tell the Wraith, and now he can't think what else there is to do. There's always killing Wraith, but he's not so sure that Sheppard would be excited about that. It feels like all he has left.

At some point he realizes Amelia is standing next to him. She doesn't speak, but when he moves out and starts running she falls in a step behind him. Ronon feels his shoulders tighten with the sensation of being chased, but then relax at the steady rhythm of her breathing and the sound of her feet striking the deck. He knows it's where she likes to be, 'enjoying the view' as she puts it, and also not having to keep up precisely with his long stride. They run for what feels like a long time, but he's winded and blowing before she is so it probably wasn't that long. He can't seem to stand, his legs not holding his weight, and he's on his knees on the pier, his face pressed to Amelia's stomach and he can't stop the flood of tears that isn't the product of the glare from the setting sun.

"They take everything," he murmurs to her. "And then they take whatever else you find."

Amelia nods and kisses him, her lips soft and soothing against his heated skin, and he just sits with his arms around her until his anger stops beating its way out of him and all that is left is an aching hollow.

 

* * *

 

 

It's just a regular sparring session, but when Ronon lashes out and catches St Cyr's jaw with his fist, and St Cyr lashes out in his own turn to slam his knuckles into Ronon's cheekbone, Teyla insists that they both go to medical and get checked, and to try not to bleed all over the floor on their way. Teyla's been hovering a bit more than usual the past few days and Ronon must be feeling like he needs to let her do it because, instead of telling her to go mother her actual child, he bows his head and follows St Cyr out of the door.

Doctor Beckett is there, back from one of his trips, and he grins at Ronon. "Well some things don't change, do they? Come over here, the pair of you, and let me take a look at that."

Ronon goes willingly; Jennifer's great, but Beckett is... Beckett. Even now. St Cyr grins as he hikes up onto another bed and Marie comes over to peer at the gash on his jaw and tut over his swelling fingers.

"Canna believe you didn't break some fingers yourself," Beckett says, eyebrows rising as he glances at St Cyr's jaw. Ronon just grins.

They're almost done when the door opens and a Wraith walks in.

The Wraith, and Jennifer's gene experiments, are supposed to be in a separate lab, so what this one is doing here, Ronon can only guess. The marines guarding the creature don't appear alarmed so it must be within the limits given to it by Caldwell, but Ronon can't help but tense and watch the thing sharply.

He's not the only one; Beckett glances up from what he's doing with a sharp look of his own. His expression is wary, and when the Wraith glances around and then comes toward them he tenses.

"I seek the doctor known as Keller," the Wraith says imperiously.

Before Beckett can answer, Ronon grabs the Wraith by the arm and pulls it toward him, rising from the medical bed to twist the Wraith down and pin it there with Ronon's magnum pressed to the back of its head.

The Wraith snarls in alarm, but when it feels the press of the magnum it doesn't struggle.

" _Ronon,_ " a voice says, and for a moment, the briefest moment, it sounds like Sheppard.

"Ronon," Beckett says again. "It's all right. Step back, son."

Ronon curls his lip at the Wraith, but he pulls back the magnum and steps away. His eyes don't leave the Wraith.

"It's all right," Beckett says again.

The Wraith withdraws, staring at Ronon with the same wary intensity that Ronon gives back to it.

"What did you need?" Beckett asks the Wraith.

It glances at Ronon before responding. "I have arrived to contribute to the project."

"The gene therapy project is no' on this level," Beckett explains patiently.

The Wraith bares his teeth and Ronon returns the gesture, snarling silently at the creature.

Beckett rests a hand on Ronon's arm.

Ronon is peripherally aware that a group of people walk into the room but isn't sure of who they are before Woolsey calls, "Ah, Doctor Beckett. Excellent, join us for a moment," and Caldwell says irritably, "What is that Wraith doing up here?"

Beckett is the one who glances over. "Doctor Keller," he identifies the last member of the group and says with slight admonishment, "I believe one of your personnel was misdirected."

Ronon hears Jennifer sigh. "The gene therapy project lab is on the pier level," she says, but Caldwell is already stalking over to reproach the marines. "It doesn't matter," Jennifer interrupts, beckoning to the Wraith. "Come over here, we're going to have a quick meeting and then I can walk you down."

She doesn't see the glare Caldwell shoots her, but he says, "Doctor, we are _trying_ to keep your guests limited to specific areas for a _reason_."

Ronon is busy inviting himself along to the meeting that Beckett is following Woolsey into Jennifer's office for, and Jennifer rolls her eyes at Caldwell and only says, "I think Ronon will keep an eye on him while you figure out where the miscommunication was with the marines." She beckons to the Wraith again, who appears to accept her offer over Caldwell's and tucks himself into the corner of the room on the farthest side from Ronon, his suspicious eyes on Ronon almost as often as Ronon's own distrust finds his eyes focused on the Wraith.

"I've been working with Comhar on seeing if we can isolate the biochemical process responsible for production of the feeding enzyme," Jennifer begins.

"Hold on," Beckett interrupts. "Can you not back it up a bit? I haven't had a chance to look at your reports since I returned."

Jennifer nods. "Todd's team successfully implemented the gene therapy we had discussed with him in our previous deal, before the Attero incident," she summarizes. "When all of the subjects in their first trial had reactions to the treatment, the scientists realized that the problem was related to the Wraith feeding enzyme." She brings up some images on the screens in front of her. Beckett makes a thoughtful noise upon seeing what Ronon assumes are charts of data, but Woolsey looks as confused as Ronon feels. The Wraith in the corner is looking at the screens thoughtfully. "Wraith only begin producing the feeding enzyme when they reach the age when they begin to feed, kind of a puberty," Jennifer says, mostly at Woolsey. "Their body usually processes the enzyme at a steady metabolic rate concurrent with their need to require nourishment. There's a really fascinating interplay between the enzyme production and the hibernation process," she says, seeming to warm to this particular facet of her topic. "Actually, the resumption of enzyme production seems to be a part of the trigger that awakens a Wraith from hibernation naturally."

"You can use steady metabolic processes to measure aspects of the specimen's physiology," Beckett interrupts thoughtfully.

Jennifer grins. "Which is one of the reasons it's been exciting to discover." She turns to Woolsey, who seems to understand.

"You can determine how old a Wraith is from a tissue sample by measuring the level of the enzyme," Woolsey intuits. Jennifer nods. "Which helps with the therapy because younger Wraith will have less of the enzyme in their system?"

"Well, measuring the level of the enzyme would be sufficient; we wouldn't need to determine their age as it would be irrelevant after determining if the enzyme level was low enough for them to be included in the next trial group. But yes, we now have concrete scientific data to back up that that's _why_ the original test failed, and why the second test didn't: because the Wraithlings from the nest had never fed and were young enough to have merely trace amounts of the enzyme in their systems. We've refined the treatment process with some samples provided by members of the successful trial, and so the next trial group will undergo a slightly altered treatment in an attempt to compensate for the higher levels of the enzyme in their systems. From there we hope to build toward a treatment that will work safely on the rest of the population." She turns away from the display and toward them. "I also thought it was interesting. Comhar is 12,948 years old, which is one thing to think about and another to see in front of you. He's the oldest Wraith I have a sample from."

Woolsey looks impressed. "I thought Helen was quite a bit older than that?"

Jennifer sighs. "I don't have any viable genetic samples from queens. Which I would love to have, since we're still not certain if the therapy will work on them at all."

Beckett frowns and nods. "No version of the retrovirus has before."

Ronon's watching the Wraith, who looks troubled.

"You wish to alter queens as well?" the Wraith says, his voice startling Woolsey and Beckett, who appear to have forgotten he was there.

"Eventually, the goal would be to be able to remove a need for any Wraith to feed on humans," Jennifer responds. "But we're a _long_ way from that step. Queens are a relatively small portion of the population, and figuring out their particular genetic quirks isn't a priority right now.

"Comhar is working with Cináed to gather a sample group of volunteers for the next trial. We're looking for younger Wraith of course, preferably from different genetic lineages. Since the successful test was only on a sample that is of the same genetic background, the therapy may react differently on other Wraith. So that’s something we definitely want to make sure we assess. Lab tests have shown that the treatment is still effective on diverse genetic samples, but we've already seen that lab tests don’t always translate one-to-one to live-subject trials. Wraith have a rather different genetic makeup than what I learned in med school, which likes to throw a wrench in when I think I've got it figured out." She smiles, proudly and tiredly.

Ronon thinks she has never looked more alien to him than she does in this moment. She is suffused with her passion, and he doesn't understand it at all.

Woolsey looks at Jennifer's data with interest. "I'd appreciate a write up of what you have so far. I'm planning the next meeting of the delegates and it would be nice for us to be able to show them what progress we've made."

Ronon tenses but it's Jennifer who asks, "Everyone is still interested in the alliance?" She doesn't say _without Sheppard_ but it's understood.

Woolsey sighs. "We will continue as if that were the case," he says with a smile that tries too hard to be optimistic.

 

* * *

 

 

It's fourteen days after their visit to Todd's hive when a hive arrives in orbit above Atlantis. Ronon is passing through the gateroom when Woolsey catches sight of him and tells him about it.

"It's Todd, and he wants to talk to you," Woolsey says, somewhat grimly. "And Teyla and Doctor McKay."

Ronon nods shortly. If nothing else, he might get the chance to kill the bastard this time.

 

It's the remains of AR1, Woolsey, and Caldwell who meet Todd in the conference room. It looks like he came alone; Ronon can't decide if that means he's feeling cocky or defeatist. He remembers the look in Todd's eyes when they told him their news, and he wonders if Todd came here so that Ronon would kill him. But that's probably too much of Ronon's hoping and not enough of actuality, especially since there's a spark in Todd's eye as he regards them.

Todd scans the room and settles his eyes on Teyla. "You came to inform me that Sheppard has perished. Why?" he asks.

"It was our intention to notify you that he had gone missing on a mission," Teyla glares at Ronon, "but that we still held out hope that he would return to us." Her eyes meet Todd's. "John would want us to keep you informed."

"Ahh." Todd leans back slightly, considering her. "So you do not believe that what you told me was the truth," he drawls.

"We generally don't give up on our people _quite_ that quickly," Woolsey says. He's looking at Ronon thoughtfully and doesn't seem to care that no one else is listening to him.

Todd's words aren't really a question, but McKay inhales like the answers to questions can sometimes be different than expected. "You found him," he breathes with excitement. "He _is_ alive."

"How?" Caldwell asks skeptically. "It's a big galaxy, and we've already checked all the planets that Sheppard would have used as refuge if he couldn't send an IDC and return to Atlantis directly, _and_ the addresses we were able to retrieve from the Da'sha Stargate."

Todd eyes Caldwell. "I have touched his mind," he says slowly, like he's confessing something.

Caldwell's expression tightens like he might actually beat Ronon to calling the Wraith a liar.

"Liar," Ronon says.

Todd snarls at him, but Teyla stands and glares at Ronon. "I know that you have a connection," she says to Todd. "But it can work even when you do not know where to reach for him?"

Todd chooses to address her and ignore Ronon. "Yes," he says simply.

"Is there something else we should be looking for when we test our people to make sure they're not being compromised?" Caldwell asks sourly, and rather than skeptical he looks actually angry.

Todd turns to regard Caldwell; a shiver of distaste runs up Ronon's spine as the Wraith leans his head back and the flesh around the pits on his face quivers and flares. "I do not control Sheppard's thoughts or actions," he says with far more patience than Ronon would have expected. "I can feel that you fear this, and I assure you it is not so." His hands are spread against the table and Ronon can see the weaving of black lines tattooed on the back of his right hand. "The connection between myself and Sheppard is unique. Though it is possible that queens who oppose the Ancient One and your alliance will send worshippers whom they have 'compromised' in attempts to infiltrate your city and cause damage. At a time more appropriate I will offer what knowledge I can to assist you in preventing this."

Caldwell looks surprised.

Todd leans back from the table. "I appreciate that you came to me with the news of what had happened to Sheppard, and so I return the consideration." He moves to leave the room.

"Wait!" McKay calls. "Where is he? What happened?"

Todd stops and turns to look at McKay, smiling. "As a matter of fact, Doctor McKay, I believe your assistance in locating him would indeed facilitate the process."

Ronon watches the Wraith. He doesn’t want to let himself believe that what Todd says is true. Wraith lie, and the fact that he trusted them is what got Sheppard killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd meant to have this posted Monday, but I've spent the week trying to wrangle the medical technobabble into something that actually makes sense. I guess let me know if it's not quite there yet...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Gift get to know the newcomer to their world.

The man gets his hands and knees under him, pushing himself to his feet with a groan; the tree that he rolled up against is now at his back. He holds his left arm against his side in a way that suggests that it pains him to move it. His eyes scan the Bola Kai who approach him.

The Bola Kai whoop with pleasure; the sound is meant to alert their compatriots. Sara knows they are eaters of human flesh- she has seen it. They are also fiercely tribal and will not treat well with any who are not of their tribe.

"Gift," Sara says urgently. "We must protect this man." She is armed with her knife and her spear, but if she kills the Bola Kai they will not feed Gift. "Can you drive them away?" She fears that Gift's strengths will not aide him in the full light of day. To act quickly would be better, before more of the Bola Kai arrive.

Gift grumbles but says, "I will hold them. You must take the man away from this place."

Sara nods, reaching out to touch his brow in a quick, familiar gesture.

Gift closes his eyes in acknowledgement of her touch, then turns and slips through the branches to other trees. Sara starts after him, slowly, moving along a path that takes her further into the trees until she finds one from which it will be easy to descend. She crouches in the low branches, under leaves, and watches.

The man is slowly retreating from the Bola Kai as they stalk toward him. He looks around him for shelter or support as he backs further into the trees in search of cover. The Bola Kai advance more quickly than he is retreating and one of them darts forward to feint at him. The Bola Kai is surprised when the man presses forward with a quick counterattack, striking out with a forceful kick that connects with the Bola Kai's chin. The Bola Kai's head jerks backward and he falls limply to the ground; Sara suspects the Bola Kai is unconscious rather than dead. The man snatches up the Bola Kai's fallen knife and holds it in his good hand, his left arm still held tight to his side. His expression is determined, and then shocked when Gift appears beside him, dropping out of the tree branches.

The man twists to face Gift. Gift reaches down and grabs ahold of the man by the hand that holds the knife and by the opposite shoulder, gathering a handful of the outer garment the man wears and raising the man over his head easily in a gesture of possession. Gift snarls in defiance at the Bola Kai. The handful of Bola Kai present raise their voices in objection, and the man struggles in Gift's grasp.

Gift throws the man between the trees, toward where Sara is, then turns to face the Bola Kai.

The man grunts as he hits the ground a second time. Sara slips down from the tree and moves toward him, tapping the man's shoulder with the spear shaft. "Come," she says to him.

He looks up at her, startled. "What the hell," he mumbles, voice thin and breathy, but he's already pushing himself to his feet. Sara makes sure she stays out of reach of his good arm, but leads him through the trees toward the ridge. She is fleet-footed, and the man is only slightly less so, though he is breathing raggedly. One of the Bola Kai sees them fleeing and attempts to cut them off but fails; they are dedicated hunters, but not swift ones.

Once Sara and the man are well into the trees and on their way back up the ridge, the man stumbles, his foot turning on a rock, and he is momentarily unable to regain his feet. His body shakes with the effort to draw breath. "Just a minute," he wheezes, his face twisted in pain.

Sara crouches apart from him and watches him. She suspects what she initially assumed was an injury to his arm that had him holding it against his side is actually an injury to his thorax that places pressure on his lungs, thus the difficulty in breathing.

Before she feels he is recovered enough to continue the climb up the side of the ridge, he forces himself to his feet. "Okay," he grits out, "we need to move."

Sara shakes her head. They are halfway up the ridge, nearing the edge where the heavy growth turns into the sparse grasses and rocky areas that dominate the top of the ridge. "We are far enough from the Bola Kai. We can wait for Gift here."

"Gift?" he asks.

She tenses suddenly, because she hears a heavy body moving through the undergrowth.

It is a Bola Kai- not the one they outran before but a different one who came from the plain and through the trees instead of chasing them from the Portal. The young warrior snarls at her with hatred and she brings her spear to bear.

While the Bola Kai is distracted with Sara, the man strikes. Tossing the blade he holds to his weaker hand, his throws himself at the Bola Kai, bearing him to the ground. He buries his blade in flesh and reaches with his right hand to grapple with the Bola Kai's own weapon, smashing the Bola Kai's hand into the ground until he releases the axe. The pair of them are struggling on the ground, but the Bola Kai has two good hands with which to attack, and he grasps the man by his arm, capturing control of the blade and forcing the man beneath him. He presses the man's arm out and to the ground as the man's face twists in pain at the forced motion. The man snarls in desperation and reaches up with his free hand, his hand scrabbling over the Bola Kai's head until his fingers find purchase in the Bola Kai's eye socket and dig in. The Bola Kai shrieks in pain. His fingers, wrapped around the man's wrist, tighten in an effort to force the man to drop the knife.

Forgotten, Sara comes up behind the Bola Kai and buries her spear in the joint of his shoulder. He cries out again in pained rage; Sara's response is a snarl of annoyance as the wooden shaft sticks. She jerks it back harder than she thought she'd need to before it finally comes free.

The man kicks the Bola Kai off of him and scrambles out from underneath. He is now smeared with blood and gore, but he still has hold of the knife he had claimed. "Come on, kid," he grunts. He reaches for her. "We gotta get outta here."

She nods. "Come." They continue up the ridge. The man doesn't falter, but his breathing is still unnaturally heavy. He keeps his eyes focused on the ground as he continues to place one foot before the other. She is curious about him. She hasn't seen another human who is not Bola Kai in so long... and she can't remember ever meeting someone who was not Bola Kai and not of her home planet.  Though, she reminds herself to be cautious; just because he does not bear the facial markings of a tribe doesn't mean he is better than the Bola Kai. Just because he came through the portal doesn't mean he is to be trusted.

They make the top of the ridge and the man looks down into the valley. He falls to his knees, pain and exhaustion flashing over his face. He scans the trail behind them and takes in the rest of the terrain. "We should keep going," he says, but she can hear that his throat is raw with the rasping of his breath.

"Rest," she urges him.

He shakes his head, but Sara is spared the need to argue with him by the arrival of Gift.

Gift reaches down and takes hold of the man by the back of his shirt, hauling him up. The man's fingers clench more tightly around the hilt of his knife as he eyes Gift warily.

"He is hurt," Sara reminds Gift. "Be careful with him."

Gift's lip curls. "The Bola Kai are determined," he says, completely disregarding the man and glancing behind him. They are far enough elevated that Sara can see all of the retreating members of the original ceremonial party returning, and also, at the rim of the horizon, action at the distant location of the Bola Kai's main camp. "We should leave this area."

Sara nods, thinking over their various camps in her mind. They will need to use one that is more inaccessible. "The sky lake?" she suggests.

Gift grunts. "It is a long way, my queen." He looks at the man. "You think this one will make it?" he says doubtfully.

The man shakes off Gift's hand. "I can make it," he says shortly. He looks down at the Bola Kai, or perhaps at the Portal, then back, his eyes flicking between Gift and Sara. His left hand is curled against his side again.

Sara nods and turns to lead the way along the ridge to the mountain path.

 

* * *

 

 

The sky lake is what Sara calls a campsite she and Gift established by the side of a small lake that is near the top of one of the mountains in the small range of them that runs behind the ridge-ringed valley where Gift's ship crashed. The Bola Kai know that they are more vulnerable to Gift in the mountains, as they have no advantage of numbers and they move more loudly than the Wraith, though this time they must be truly angered for they pursue her and Gift far longer than she had thought they would. Gift ends up carrying the man up the last part of the path over the rocks as Sara lays a false trail for the hunters.

 

They reach the camp when the sun is highest in the sky. It is undisturbed from the last time she and Gift left it, which is the outcome Sara expects but is always pleased to discover; this is the most remote of the several camps she and Gift have established and it is the only one that has never been disturbed by Bola Kai or the packs of Courser-beasts that hunt the valley and forests north of the mountains and which have raided some of their other camps to dig up her supplies. She has also never seen the hunters she calls Runners- which look like large, long-legged versions of her _chiquee_ \- in the mountains; they prefer the southern plain where their prey live- the quick, long-limbed _telopan_ that are the same as what used to run on the plains of her home planet.

Gift sets the man beside the firepit while Sara crouches on the other side of the pit and brushes her hand over the stones that line it, making sure that nothing is growing between them. It seems clear, and they have plenty of daylight left to catch a bit of the sun's fire and hold it here for their use. Once she has the fire started she will be able to keep it burning for a long while, stirring a new fire from the previous night's embers.

The man is watching her with glazed eyes, and so Sara searches under the rock where she had buried it and brings forth the metal box that she had salvaged from her world's ship. In the box are some of her other salvages, and treasures: a convex glass for catching the sun, needle and thread, a coil of twine she made, small pieces of metal that have not yet found a use, an assortment of herbs.

She looks up from perusing the box to see that the man is lying flat on the ground, his eyes closed. "Gift!" she calls in worry.

Gift approaches the man, staring down at him. After a few moments, he crouches down and pokes the man hard enough in the thorax that the man makes a vague sound of pain.

Sara comes and crouches beside Gift somewhat impatiently. "I did not smell blood on him before the Bola Kai attacked," she says.

Gift's upper lip curls away from his teeth. "Yes, my queen. He does not have any serious open wounds." Gift lifts the clothing away from the left side of the man's thorax and looks at the skin beneath; the skin is scraped, red, and swollen but this does not seem to disturb Gift. "I believe the bone here that is part of what shields the chest cavity has been bruised. I do not see evidence that the bone has broken, as I believe further damage would cause it to bleed more heavily within the cavity and the skin would be darker." He pokes the man again.

"Can you fucking _stop_ ," the man hisses, opening his eyes to glare at Gift. He raises his hand to bat it at Gift, but Sara catches the hand and returns it to resting on the ground without any opposition.

Gift narrows his eyes at the man and continues talking to Sara as if uninterrupted. "With rest, it should heal without intervention."

Sara nods. "Thank you, Gift."

Gift stands, soundlessly, and steps away to walk toward the lake.

Sara peers at the man's face. His eyes are half open and he inhales deeply despite the fact that it pains him, as though he knows he has to continue doing it. Sara smiles at him in what she hopes is a kindly manner. "You are safe here," she tells him. His eyes flicker from her to Gift and rest there. Sara frowns. "Gift will not harm you," she assures the man. It has been awhile, and Gift has always been something other than the worst evil on this world, but Sara remembers that Wraith are feared on other worlds.

But the man accepts her words, his eyes closing as he passes into a troubled rest that seems not entirely voluntary.

Sara leaves him, going to Gift.

Gift has walked away from the lake and he stands at the edge of the camp, looking down at the way they came. "Are you well?" Sara asks him. "Were you injured at all?"

She can see the cuts that mar his coat and the holes that have been rent in his tunic, the edges of which are dark with signs of his blood, but Gift shakes his head. He steps back from the edge and kneels before her. She wraps her arms around him. "You did well, Gift. I am pleased that we have saved this man from the Bola Kai."

Rather than reassured, Gift remains tense. "Why, my queen? Who is he? Do you know that he is better than them in some way, or only different?"

"I do not know, but I hope he is better." She frowns, and rests her hands to either side of Gift's face, raising his eyes to meet hers. She strokes her fingers over his smooth skin. "Why, Gift? Can I only save him if he is known to me?"

Gift's expression is wild but his words are calm. "No, my queen." He shifts his weight.

Sara watches him for a moment, but that seems to be all he will say. She strokes her hand over his hair. "I will finish readying the camp," she says to him. She wants to tell him to rest, but he seems beset by restless energy so instead she tells him, "We will need some of the supplies from one of the lower camps, possibly the main camp if the Bola Kai have not fouled them already; we have not been here so late in the year and I think it will get cold." She can't quite bring herself to say that she is sending him on this errand; she has never sent him away before, to a place that is so far from her. She has never been alone with someone who is not Gift, not since they met. But she is an adult now; she is aware that Gift will always protect her and she does not need him to be present to know it is so.

Gift rises. "Yes, my queen. I will fetch them." He reaches to cup her chin in his left hand. "Be careful, my queen," he says.

She smiles, placing her hand over his. "You have taught me how to care for myself," she assures him.

Gift smiles, and then he is gone, his long legs carrying him quickly into the darkness under the trees along the path.

 

The man awakens before Gift returns.

Sara is sitting by the fire she just started with the convex glass; it is still catching, so she is feeding it slowly to make sure that nothing snatches away the burgeoning flames before they are hot enough to burn the heavier logs.

Across the fire, the man's breathing had grown shallow while he slept, but he inhales deeply and comes awake suddenly when it pains him. He half sits up in a defensive movement that seems so deeply ingrained that it is almost instinct. He grunts and falls back when the pain only increases, but turns his head until his eyes rest on her. He mumbles, "Where-"

"I have brought you to our mountain camp," Sara reminds him. "The Bola Kai cannot reach us here."

"Bola Kai," the man mutters. "Hell." He raises his right hand, and seems to only then realize that it's still covered in gore. He wipes it on his already filthy outer garment. Sara can see that there are... markings of some kind, on his skin.

"Here, chew on this." She holds up a piece of the bloodflower root from her supplies and then tosses it to him. "It will help with the pain."

He picks it up and puts it in his mouth without question. He makes a face at the taste but says, "Thanks." His eyes are sharp on her.

"I cleaned your knife," Sara tells him, "but was not sure you wanted your garments cleaned while you were unaware."

The bloodflower root can't be working yet, but he pushes himself up on his elbows to look at her. "That was thoughtful," he says. The words are somewhat mocking, and his eyes are on the knife he claimed from the Bola Kai which lies by her side. He is defenseless, though he is still at least twice her size.

Sara rolls her eyes, and tosses him the knife. He looks at it lying where it struck point first in the dirt beside his hand and then at her. "You should keep it," he says. "You don't know me."

Sara regards him. "And you don't know me. Do you wish to be without defense?"

He chuckles under his breath, then winces and takes a slow, deep breath. It seems less painful than it was a few moments ago. He gives most of his focus to attempting to ease himself to a seated position. Once he is there he looks at her again. "I'm not much of a threat," he admits.

Sara shakes her head. "I saw you attack the Bola Kai. I would not underestimate you."

He grins crookedly. "Thanks." The word sounds more genuine, but there is still a flippant edge to it that she is beginning to suspect is just part of the way he speaks. "What's your name?"

"Sara," she tells him. "And yours?"

"I'm John. John Sheppard." He opens his outer garment by undoing a long fastener of some kind that opens with a sharp hissing. Sara is fascinated by it, but John doesn't pay much attention and instead grimaces as he prods his side gingerly. He glances around. "So, Gift is a friend of yours?"

Sara blinks in surprise. "Gift is my everything," she says, the words startled out of her.

John grins his crooked grin again. "Yeah?" He finishes shrugging out of the fouled outer garment, leaving himself in a shirt with sleeves that only cover his upper arms. Sara can more easily see the marks on his arm that wiping had not altered, but John leans back against the rock behind him as if exhausted by the morning's activities in a way that his troubled sleep has not cured. He sighs tiredly and asks, "How'd you end up out here with a Wraith?"

Sara shrugs. She wants to say that it is a complicated story, but in truth is it very simple. "There is no way off this planet. Gift saved me from the Bola Kai. We have been company for each other."

"No way off," John repeats, his voice flat and his manner suddenly deflated. "Yeah. I, um. Sending me here was supposed to be something of an execution."

Sara tenses and has to physically refrain from reaching for her own knife, strapped to her shin under her leggings and that she is fairly certain her guest doesn't know she has. She casually feeds the rest of the kindling she holds into the fire and reaches for the end of her braid, which has come loose and hangs over her shoulder. "Why were you being executed?"

"For being Wraith-cursed." He grins his crooked grin. It has been so long since she has seen a human face in any expression other than twisted in disgust and hatred that Sara finds herself somewhat fascinated.

"Wraith-cursed?" Her fingers become still in her hair and she eyes him curiously. "What does that mean?"

"Some people, they think that because I don't hate all the Wraith, that means that I'm going to get them culled by my Wraith friends." He makes an offended sound in his throat.

"Wraith friends?" Sara pushes.

John grins again, more warmly. "Okay, maybe we're more than friends." He looks up to the sky, perhaps seeking other worlds beyond the sky.

Sara feels something warm blossom in her own chest. This man has gone from being a stranger and possible threat to being someone like her. "Can you sense him even from far away?" she asks, then blushes. "You look like you are seeing him. I always know where Gift is," she tries to explain, "but I don't know if it would work from so far."

John gives her a quick grin. "Usually we can find each other." He winces. "At the moment, I'm not sure if I can..." He makes a gesture with his hand that Sara doesn't understand, but she gathers that while he is physically incapable at the moment it is something that is not unheard of for him, and she thrills.

"Rest," she tells him. "To your other side is the lake if you want to wash. Gift will return soon with the furs, and dinner most like, and we will rest warm during the night even up here on the mountain."

John lies back down. Now that the bloodflower root has dulled the pain the weariness is heavier on his face. "Okay. I'm gonna," and without saying anything else his eyes close and he falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

It is full dark before Gift returns with the supplies he saved from their lower camps.

"The Bola Kai are angry," he says, appearing beside Sara from out of the darkness. She turns to greet him even before he sets his load of furs and other supplies down.

Sara chuckles darkly. "With right." She reaches to touch Gift, stroking the smooth, heavy ridge of his brow. "Did they give you any trouble?"

"No, my queen." Gift leans into her touch, but turns a wary eye on their guest.

John is sitting by the fire. He spent much of the rest of the day sleeping in the sun, but also at one point managed to take himself to the lake to wash his jacket and shirt, letting them dry on the rocks before donning them again. Sara had tutted over the extent of his cuts and bruises, especially a large one on his left shoulder that she suspects contributed to his favoring of that arm, but he had deflected her concern by asking her about the properties of the bloodflower and had promptly fallen asleep again in the middle of her recitation. He smiles now at Gift, a curling of lip that does not show teeth, and ducks his head. "Glad to have you back."

Gift snarls at him, baring all his teeth in response to John's words.

"Gift!" Sara cries in surprise.

"It's alright," John says reassuringly. He raises his hands and spreads them, keeping his eyes down. "I won't harm her," he tells Gift. "I swear it."

"Your words mean nothing," Gift hisses at him. "You serve another."

"Not a queen," John replies quickly. He turns his right arm so the hand is palm up, revealing the dark lines that washing had not removed from his skin; he had deflected conversation and repeatedly fallen asleep before Sara could ask about them during the day. In the cool evening he pulls his jacket sleeve up past his elbow, revealing the swirling, dark lines that mark their patterns under his dark hair all up the pale skin of his right inner forearm, from the palm of his hand to the crook of his elbow.

Sara notices for the first time, now that she is looking properly instead of trying to pretend she isn't staring, that the style of the lines resembles the markings on Gift's downed ship and she is suddenly even more fascinated. Gift snarls in displeasure.

"What does it mean?" Sara asks, impatient with Gift's attitude toward their guest. John opens his mouth to answer her but Sara imperiously waves him to silence; she may find Gift's attitude tiresome but she respects it. "Gift," she says. "Tell me."

Gift inhales deeply, the pits on his cheeks flaring. "He is sworn to a Wraith commander. Together, they have made an alliance that brings prosperity to their hives." His voice is more measured, and his displeasure appears to be fading.

John keeps his eyes on Gift. "I swear by all I love I will not bring harm to her."

Gift grumbles softly, but looks away from John, crouching beside Sara and pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

Still shocked by how upset Gift is, Sara says tentatively, "But that is good, yes? John was sent here because he is befriended by the Wraith. Surely we can trust his words." Gift grumbles into her shoulder and Sara strokes Gift's hair comfortingly. "I do not understand," she says eventually.

John smiles tightly. "I'm guessing Gift isn't quite as trusting."

Sara eyes him. "Is there a reason that I should be untrusting?" she asks John.

It is Gift who answers, "Wraith do not help one another just because they are Wraith." He glares at John. "For him to be bound to a Wraith Commander means nothing."

"But he has given his word that he means us no harm," Sara continues. She knows that people lie about such things, but she feels already a kinship with John and she wants him to be trustworthy. She remembers the look on his face when he first spoke of his Wraith. She reaches and takes a few strands of Gift's hair, braiding and unbraiding them between her fingers. "Tell us about yourself, John."

He sits up a little, as if suddenly finding himself the center of her attention in a way he hadn't been before, and then winces and presses his hand to his side. "Well, I've had bruised ribs before and it never gets more fun, I'll say that."

Sara nods; she has never broken or injured the bones in her chest, but the time she broke her leg was probably the worst pain that she can remember. "How did you come by the design on your arm that is written in Wraith?"

John smiles the soft warm expression he had earlier, the one that makes her think he must speak truth. "It's pretty unique I guess, because usually the process by which Wraith inscribe their markings doesn't set permanently on human skin. But because of an accident a few years ago I have some Wraith RNA markers in my blood."

"Fascinating." Sara has no idea what "RNA" is or by what kind of accident a person can acquire some. It is both pleasant and unnerving to hear another human's voice after so long, and to hear it raised in something other than the curses the Bola Kai throw her way.

John touches the dark lines near his elbow, what must be the beginning of the design. "I... my Commander, I call him Todd. I was on his hive when I thought, hey, let's see what this tattoo business is all about." He shies away from the topic suddenly and continues instead, "Anyway, I'm from a place called Atlantis, but really my people originally came from somewhere a bit farther away than that..."

 

John speaks until he is falling over from weariness and his voice rasps in his throat. Gift has to carry him under the shelter which is where they sleep and where Gift has spread the furs he brought.

Sara looks down at John's face, expression still tight with pain even after the bloodflower root. It is strange to think that he comes from a place so far away and yet he looks like he could have come from her planet.

Gift urges her toward the inner side of the shelter and lays himself between her and John. Sara sighs in pretense of annoyance, but she is tired as well, and she lays herself along Gift's side and sleeps, her cheek pillowed on the back of his shoulder.

 

 

Sara wakes before dawn again. She lies against the inner wall of the shelter, where she had fetched up when Gift left, and listens. She can hear John's rough breathing. She can see, a darker outline against the darkness, Gift moving.

Gift knows she is awake, and comes to her, pressing his face into the curve of her neck. Sara throws her arms around him and strokes his hair, sharing this quiet moment.

Dawn is breaking red and orange through the openings of the shelter, and Sara stills her hand in Gift's hair, gathering herself to stand.

Gift moves past where John is lying closest to the shelter's opening, and Sara also moves to step over John. But John tenses, sensing their nearness, and awakens. He jerks himself to awareness when he realizes he is somewhere unfamiliar, and then groans when moving is painful.

"Hush, John," Sara says soothingly. "You are safe here."

"Sara," he identifies her. He rubs his hands over his bristly face, then rolls over to crawl out of the shelter. He pulls himself to his feet and makes his way to the edge of the camp, disappearing from her sight; she is not alarmed as she has some idea what he is after. Sara heads in a different direction, and Gift stirs the embers of the fire to wakefulness and fills the cooking pot with water from the lake while he waits for her.

Sara is returned and crouched by the fire before John stumbles out of the trees. He pauses and watches the sunrise for a moment, reflected in the clear water of the lake. "Wow." He slowly lowers himself to sit on a boulder with a grimace. "I guess I was too busy sleeping yesterday to notice, but it's really beautiful here."

Sara nods. "Sunrise is my favorite," she confesses. She looks down into her cup, a tin piece that Gift salvaged from her people's downed ship. "Sunrise is a time of newness and beginning." She puts a pinch of leaves from the supplies that Gift brought into the cup and pours hot water over them. She offers it to John.

John takes it. "Breakfast?" he says hopefully.

Sara can't help returning the smile. "There are whistler eggs, and the last of the berries should be eaten. Also, there is more bloodflower root for you."

He takes whatever she gives him, biting the root in half and looking at the other half in his hand as he chews thoughtfully. "How did you figure out what here is edible?"

Sara shrugs. "Some of these plants also grow on my planet. Like the camellia bush." She gestures to the cup in John's hand. "Some Gift knew about." He shifts at the periphery of her vision. "Like the bloodflower. If you roast the roots they taste better but are not so effective."

"And he knew that it relieved pain," John muses. He looks at Gift form the corner of his eye. "If you needed something like that, couldn't Gift heal you?"

Sara frowns. "Gift says that it's not good for their development for younglings to receive the Gift of Life before they awaken to the hunger." John eyes her and Sara feels embarrassed suddenly; she is doing what Gift often does and talking about herself as if she were Wraith. She looks away, but she can still feel the heat in her cheeks. "I only just became a woman a few months ago," Sara continues stiffly. "So, Gift has cared for me with other remedies, like the bloodflower."

"Thank you," John says, sidestepping the entire conversation and not looking at her red face but instead down at the tin cup in his hands.  "You didn't have to do any of this."

"Should we leave you to the Bola Kai?" Sara says, her temper somewhat short because of her embarrassment.

John smiles, a warm expression that softens his face. "I'm glad you didn't," he says simply. "How did you come to this planet?" he changes the subject again as he drinks from the cup.

"A ship from my homeworld crashed here."

He looks at her. "You were the only survivor?"

Sara shrugs. "When the Bola Kai were done, yes," she says, though in truth some of the Bola Kai's prisoners has lingered for weeks before meeting their demise; she hadn't known about that until long afterward. "That was the day I met Gift." She seeks him with her eyes but Gift is lurking around the edge of the camp, still restless. "A Bola Kai was reaching for me and I screamed, and the next thing I knew he was dead and Gift looked down at me." Sara pauses. "My parents had just died before my eyes. I asked him to kill me because I didn't want to be without them." She hears John inhale softly; she suspects it is an expression of sympathy. "But then Gift said that he was alone, too. And I couldn't leave him." Sara shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. "So now, neither of us is alone." She rests her eyes on John. "You need not be alone, either."

John shakes his head. "I can't stay here," he says.

Sara shrugs. "Where will you go?"

John shakes his head again. He hands her the cup, and moves from his seat on the boulder, easing himself down to sit on the ground and then lie completely flat. "I'm gonna try something," he says. He grimaces as the movement causes the pain in his side to worsen briefly, then continues dubiously, "It might not work."

Sara nods. John lies back and closes his eyes, arms crossed over his stomach.

Sara rinses John's cup and then fills it with water again and makes a brew of camellia leaves for herself. She thinks about possibly revisiting the wreckage of the ship; she has never needed more than one cup before now, but if John will stay with them they will need another one if they wish to both make use of it at the same time. However, she is not excited to return to the crash site.

John snores and she realizes that he has fallen asleep.

Sara smiles; she doubts that was the "something" he was going to try, but his body requires healing. She remembers sleeping a great deal when she broke her leg. She had also been ravenous. She frowns. "Gift," she says thoughtfully, "we should hunt. We will be here for some time I think before the Bola Kai forget John and return to their usual pursuits. I think our need balances the risks of seeking large prey."

Gift chuckles, coming up behind her to wrap her in his arms. "If you will remain here, there will be less risk," he reminds her. She has always insisted on helping with the hunting as much as she was able, much to Gift's alarm.

She huffs. "I do not wish to lose you, and you are not as impervious as you believe." He left his coat by the shelter earlier, and she reaches now to touch the cuts made in his tunic; underneath them his skin is healed and whole. " _Telopan_ will be an easier hunt than Bola Kai."

He shivers with restlessness. "The Bola Kai are spread all over the plain. The _telopan_ herds have gone farther south, probably for many days. I will go to the northern forest and hunt _cevik._ It is closer, and the Courser packs will be less competition."

Sara frowns. _Cevik_ are dangerous, with their massive antlers, and the Courser-beasts are just as massive, their shoulders as tall as her chest. "You will be careful," she demands as she hands him, from the supplies, the hunting knife for dressing his kill.

Gift laughs as he takes it. He shivers restively again, and she knows that the hunt will do him good. He leans in, touching her fact. "And you, my queen."

"I will," she promises him.

 

When he leaves, Sara finds herself perhaps infected by his restlessness. She accomplished much yesterday in clearing the camp and seeing to small tasks of mending and preparing. She spends the rest of the morning searching the nearby forest for edible plants. As midday approaches, she takes her fishing spear from the supplies Gift saved from the main camp and goes to the lake; Gift will return with meat, but it is not likely that he will return until tomorrow or the next day.

She has been fishing with only mild success for a while when she looks up and notices that John is watching her. She gathers what fish she has and prepares the two of them a lean midday meal.

"Thanks, that really hit the spot," John says afterward. He frowns.

"What troubles you?" Sara asks.

John sighs. "I can usually reach Todd, in my head." He touches the fingers of his right hand to forehead and temple, the dark lines on his skin flickering in and out of her view. "But I can't… It's like I can _feel_ him there, just beyond my reach, but my head is too full of my ribs yelling at me for me to concentrate and reach him." He grimaces and presses his hand lightly against his side.

"Give it time," Sara says. "Your body will heal. When Gift returns we will have plenty to eat, and we already have warm furs against the chill night. The Bola Kai have never found this camp. Rest now."

John makes a disgruntled face, but then he smiles. "You remind me of someone," he says softly, then sighs. "I guess make the best of the moment. I'm gonna go back to bed." He crawls into the furs and stays there until well after dark.

 

Gift returns soon after the sun has passed its zenith the next day. Sara is surprised to see him so quickly.

"The _cevik_ are as riled up as the Bola Kai," he grouses, and sets the hide he carries on the ground. Wrapped inside it are the cuts of meat he butchered from his kill.

Sara frowns. "Did it strike you?" she says reprovingly, though her expression is concerned.

"No, my queen," he answers softly, pressing his forehead to hers. His hands, though washed of the blood he incurred during the process of butchering, are still covered with _cevik_ hair from carrying the skin, and he smells powerfully of the creatures.

John is standing by the lake, but he walks up to the fire as Sara begins to arrange the meat on the greenwood grate she fashioned for smoking in the time she waited for Gift to return. The fire is already a bed of smoking coals from her tending it over the past days. When she has emptied the skin of its cargo, Gift carries it to a rock where he scrapes the last of the flesh from it, and then to the lake where he dunks it under the water and secures it when a heavy stone to soak for a while.

"You two really have a rhythm," John observes. "How long have you been here?" He asks it like it is something he has been wondering for a while.

Sara shrugs. "I do not know. I stopped counting days when the number passed five hundred." She smiles to think how young she was then. "That seemed an impossibly huge number at the time.  This is the ending of our fifth summer, I believe, though the seasons are not as sharply defined as I recall them being on my home planet." She sets down the cut of meat she holds and reminisces, "I remember it snowed quite a lot when I was a child. Now I do not think I would greet it quite so joyously, having experienced the cold without shelter." She glances at the sky. "This high in the mountains we will get some snow when winter sets in, but it will be several turnings of the moons yet."

John nods thoughtfully. "It's hard to believe that you've survived this long." He looks at her sidelong. "But you haven't been alone."

Sara smiles, the expression warm. "Without Gift I would be lost." She scowls. "And, for all that they despise me, the Bola Kai have been useful such that our time would have been far more difficult without them." Sara gestures toward the results of Gift's hunt. "We learned how to dress game and much about cooking by watching the Bola Kai's camp."

John's face twists in a distasteful expression. "Cooking?" he asks in a leading manner that makes her think he has heard rumors about the Bola Kai.

"Yes," she says.

He shifts his weight, and asks more directly, "You've known them longer than anyone I know. Are they really cannibals?"

Sara frowns. "I don't know what that is."

"Fair enough. Do they eat people?"

"Yes." Sara shrugs. "They have many rituals concerning the passing of elders. Elders hold authority and wisdom; consuming their flesh transfers those traits to those who remain."

John grimaces. "It doesn't really, though."

Sara raises an eyebrow at him. "They believe the same of those who are outside of the tribe," she continues. "If these people hold information, or prowess in any area, to consume them will transfer these things into the tribe for the tribe to use."

They sit for a moment in silence before John says, "I guess I'm doubly glad you were there when I got booted through the Stargate."

"I am as well," Sara says. She smiles at John and says teasingly, "I would rather you did not get eaten."

He laughs, then winces.

 

The smoking will take a while, so they eat leftover fish for their supper.

Afterward, Sara returns to tending the smoking meat, ensuring the fire neither dies nor gets too warm. Gift has already pulled the skin from the lake and scraped it again before dunking it back below the water.

John sighs. "I feel useless," he complains.

"Growing strong is an important job," Sara reminds him. "Or, so Gift would tell me when I was too ill or too young to help him. Would you like me to hold you and pet your hair, as he would do for me?"

John unsuccessfully fights back a laugh. "No, but stop making me laugh." He winces and Sara realizes he hasn't had any bloodflower root since yesterday. "I think my head's clearer," he says. "I'm gonna try this again." He lies back on the ground.

"As you will," Sara says, still not sure what he's doing. She begins feeding more wood to one side of the fire, away from where the meat is smoking.

It is a few moments later when John inhales sharply, his hand going to his side again, as if he'd forgotten that he'd injured himself. He blinks up at the setting sun, raising his right hand against the light. He pushes himself up onto one elbow and leans toward Sara.

Sara frowns at him. "What is wrong, John?"

Suddenly Gift is beside her. He snarls at John, pulling Sara back. "He is _Wraith_ ," Gift hisses, his eyes fixed on John's.

Sara is confused by both their behavior. She puts her hand on Gift's shoulder. "What is wrong?" she asks again.

"Nothing is wrong, little one," John says. His voice sounds different, rougher, and she frowns at him.

He grins back, though the expression is not at all like something she would expect, having just started to think she had an understanding of John's manner.

"Be calm," John says to Gift. "I will come to you, but I must find you." He eases himself further up until he is crouched facing Gift, their eyes locked together. "Can you show me the stars above this world?"

Gift snarls.

Sara fists her hands in his tunic. "What is going on?" she asks, and she is running low on patience.

John smiles. "I am not John," he begins, ready to explain further.

But Sara realizes then what Gift had meant. "You are John's Wraith!" she exclaims.

He nods. "If you have been on this planet long enough to see the stars, I ask that you show them to me so that I can find you."

Sara nods. "Gift, show him the stars." She rests a comforting hand on the spur of bone at the back of Gift's neck, above the line of his tunic. "Tell him what you know."

"My queen," Gift says stiffly. His eyes are fixed on the other Wraith, and they look through John, at each other, for a long span of moments.

Gift looks away suddenly and John's expression softens. "If you have cared for Sheppard I owe you more than I can repay," the other Wraith says.

Sara pets Gift's arm encouragingly. This is excellent; if John's Wraith is indebted to them, to Gift, then he will surely not come for John and then leave them here. This life is not a bad one, but she is aware that it is one with a limited expectancy. She needs only one occurrence of being just far enough from Gift when she runs into a Bola Kai hunting party for it be her last day; she needs only a chance encounter with an angry _cevik_ or a misplaced foot on a slippery stone before she breaks more than Gift, or time, can heal. Gift is powerful, but he is one Wraith, and he also needs only one day of the Bola Kai being angered enough that running him off is not enough and they continue pursuing him until they run him to ground; if not that, there will come a day when there are no more Bola Kai to feed him. 

Gift sighs and presses his face to Sara's shoulder.

John's eyes roll back in his head and he falls over.

Sara rushes to help lay him flat again.

"Todd?" John mumbles groggily.

"No, it is Sara," she replies. She strokes his hair back from his forehead. "Rest, John. We have spoken with your Wraith."

John's hand moves, grasping until he finds her arm and latches on to her elbow. "He can find us?" he slurs.

"I believe so. Rest, please."

John makes a sound of affirmation, then he is unconscious.

Sara returns to Gift.

He is wrapped all around himself, his face pressed to his drawn up knees.

Sara sits beside him and leans into him. "How was he?"

Gift sighs. After a long moment he says, voice thin, "It has been many years since. Since I have touched the hive... felt another's mind."

Sara leans into him harder; it has been the thing she couldn't offer him. "But he is…" She isn't sure she understands how Wraith are supposed to act with each other, so she asks instead, "He is not like they were at the end?"

Gift's arm wraps around her, pulling her into his center, to sit in his lap with his limbs caged around her, and he hides his face against her hair. "No. Nothing like." And he sounds the slightest bit hopeful.

Sara is filled with joy. But she holds it close. "Then we will see what happens when he arrives," she says resolutely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter written, then as I was reading through it I decided I hated it, and I stripped it to its bones and rewrote the entire thing- and then I couldn't stop _adding scenes_ until it was _so long_ that I split the last few scenes off into another chapter. The only part that's still the same as the first draft is the like 4 lines where Todd shows up. Why Todd, why are you the best part of whatever chapter I write even when you're not really there???


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Gift get to know John a bit better, and they are joined by others.

Before the sun sets fully John wakes enough to grumble again about being useless and then take himself to the shelter and curl in the furs. Sara sits with Gift for a while by the fire, making sure the smoking meat doesn't burn, but when her eyes start to droop she goes to the shelter as well, leaving Gift to finish in the night.

                                                                                                                                                                                      

Sara wakes late the next morning and, feeling lazy, lays in the shelter watching Gift as he moves around the camp. She is at the very front of the shelter, John behind her under the overhang of the rock which she and Gift extended with the strong timber, woven leather, and stretched hides of the shelter proper. In front of her she can see storm clouds gathering above the mountain peaks.

Gift crouches beside her and touches her hair. "The meat is packed with the salt, above you," he says and Sara nods. There is an area under the waterproofed roof where they store food; keeping supplies close makes them easier to guard against being stolen by bold Runner creatures or Courser-beasts. Such has been their experience at other camps anyway, and it's too useful a habit to try to break it at this remote location; it also helps to only need to waterproof one roof.

Behind her, John grunts. "I dreamed I was at a cookout and now I really want a beer."

Sara laughs at his grumbling. "What is beer?" she asks, curious.

"You're too young to have any." He rubs his hands over his face, then grimaces. "I don't suppose you have a razor lying around."

"We could steal one from the Bola Kai," Sara offers. Gift scoffs and moves away from them to finish collecting items from around the camp before the rain comes.

"No," John denies her quickly. "You do _not_ need to do anything so risky for something so trivial. I'll be fine."

Sara rolls her eyes. "Stealing from the Bola Kai is easy. Gift and I have done it many times before."

John grunts and rolls over to face her. He is close and his eyes are hard and green. "Don't do it," he says.

Sara tilts her head back and regards him. "Alright," she allows.

He smiles; his eyes are softer and more amber brown. Sara stares at them for a moment.

John's eyebrows go up. "I have something on my face?"

Sara cocks her head at him. "Yes. Your eyes."

John laughs, then winces. Sara reaches across the shelter to where Gift put her metal box and gets him another piece of the bloodflower root. He breaks off a small piece and grumbles, "For the record, I'd like to repeat that I hate bruised ribs."

Sara is barely listening to him; she is thinking of what Gift said last night, when John was asleep. "It has been a long while since I looked into another human's eyes."

John stills. "I guess it would be," he replies.

"When I was younger, I would stare into Gift's eyes for a long time," she says wistfully. "I thought that if I just tried hard enough, I could touch his mind like a true queen."

John makes a softly compassionate sound, then looks out at the gathering clouds thoughtfully.

 

They break their fast late with some of the _cevik_ meat, then John moves out to explore the area around the camp before the rain comes. Gift is using what daylight there is to mend his tunic and Sara sits with him by the firepit, her back against his. They have been apart from each other more in the past few days than ever before and she feels the urge to offer him more closeness. He relaxes under the comfort of her touch and she is soon dozing against him. They have food, and the lake is nearby for water, and soon the rain will come and make the mountain paths impassable for its duration, ensuring they are safe from the Bola Kai, so she takes the time to do nothing but bask in Gift's presence, his nearness, and his realness. He hums in his throat as he works the needle through the cloth.

 

John must be able to read clouds, or be blessed with luck, for he returns moments before the clouds arrive over the lake and release a deluge of water.

They watch from under the shelter. It feels slightly crowded with all of them awake. John sits in one corner; sitting up as he is his head brushes the low ceiling. He leans back against the stone wall that is the rear of the shelter and his gaze is distant and unfocused for a while.

Gift finishes mending his tunic and works on the tears in his long coat. Sara is carving an eye in an old bone splinter before rubbing it on a rough stone to sharpen the point of a new needle.

"Are all Wraith good at sewing?" John asks. The words break the rumble of the rain that has been the dominant sound but do not startle.

Gift ignores him and it is Sara who answers, "This was Gift's task on the hive."

"Really?" John says in interest. "I've always wondered where Wraith get their fashion sense. We've been so busy it hasn't really come up in conversation." He grins in a wry, self-deprecating way. "I spent a few weeks on Todd's hive, but not everyone wanted to talk to me."

"The position is called 'vestier,'" Gift says softly, and stiffly. "It is not considered a high position in the hive."

"But a necessary one," John puts in.

Gift looks up from his task; he shoots a narrow-eyed glare at John but nods. He is silent for a few moments, then says, "The Vestier tends and harvests the _mundpellis_ and the _acium_ and creates garments from them."

"What is _mundpellis_?" John asks.

Gift frowns. "It is..." He touches the coat, then bends to his work again for a few moments before continuing, "It is like the skin of the _cevik_. We harvest it, from the hive."

"So, it's like 'hive-skin'?" John makes a face between interest and distaste. "I always wondered where you got all that leather."

"The hive provides what Wraith need," Gift says. His voice is soft again, and he is pretending that his task requires a great deal of concentration. Sara carefully widens the eye of her needle and doesn't speak.

"And what is _acium_?"

"There are... plants, that grow on the inner hull of the hive. They produce a filament." Gift sets down his task and touches his woven tunic. "There are different varieties."

"And you weave it," John says, sounding impressed.

"And stitch with it," Gift adds, as if he feels the need to explain this. He looks down at his work. On this world they have no such plants, so he is patching his clothing now with gut cord.

"What happened to your hive?" John asks.

Gift's lips curl in a silent snarl and he raises his right hand in threat. Sara continues refining her needle against the stone, but her eyes are on John and Gift.

John lowers his left hand and spreads it away from his body in the same disarming gesture that Gift often uses. "I'm not asking to make a big deal out of it," John says. "I was just wondering. For a Wraith to be without hive is... unusual."

"Gift is the only one who survived," Sara says. She sets down the stone and reaches out to rest her hand on Gift's knee.

Gift shudders. He looks out at the rain. Sara knows that he remains out of choice; the rain is not so bad that it would cause him difficulty and he knows these mountains well enough to have other haunts in which he could easily wait out the weather.

"You should speak to your Commander again before he comes," Gift says, eventually. "This planet is treacherous. I have never seen a ship land here successfully."

John nods. "I'll tell him." He pauses, then pushes, "Is that what happened to your hive?"

Gift snarls, the sound huge in the confines of the shelter.

Sara points the tip of her needle at John in warning.

John raises both hands, open palms toward her. "Consider it dropped," he says.

 

But John is restless in their enforced confinement. Sara has him assist her in holding the end of a length of rope as she braids the strands together, but it is a task that does not occupy his mind.

"Tell me about your world," John asks Sara. "Before you came here."

She blinks in surprise. "I don't remember much. I was very young when we left." She frowns at the braided rope. "I remember… trees that grew behind our home. My mother, hanging washing. Running in the street with the other children." She shrugs the memories away.

John shifts his weight. "Do you know the gate address?" When she looks up in confusion he clarifies, "The symbols on the ring that would take you to your world."

"No," Sara says simply. John opens his mouth again and Sara sighs. "Gift," she asks before John can speak, "would you sing for us?"

Gift's upper lip curls once more in a silent snarl. He doesn't look up from his work, but John is distracted enough that he doesn't question her again, instead looking at Gift with expectation. Gift's long nails pinch off the gut thread as he ties it, and, as he moves to another tear in the cloth and threads his needle again, he begins humming in his throat. After a moment he opens his mouth and begins to sing.

Sara knows by the way that John listens that Gift's singing is strange to human ears; the scraps of memories she retains of her first home, her mother's lullabies, her friends' lilting childish rhymes, tell her also that the voice that has become most dear to her is not one that would be welcome in the world she knew. The humming tone fills Gift's throat and breaks on the air, permeating it with a fullness of sound rather than words. It has no meaning to it that she knows, just the richness of the tone that speaks to her bones. The tone moves up and down scales that she doesn't know, and it is sometimes in two places at once. It is strange and wondrous, and it makes her long for something she has never known while also being filled to the breaking with the enormity of it.

John is rapt with fascination. At one point he leans back, his eyes closing. When he opens them, Sara thinks he is perhaps not John anymore, because he smiles in a way that says he is remembering something very old. But he only watches and listens, and Gift doesn't notice, so she doesn't speak.

Gifts sings for a long while, and Sara, finished creating the needle, curls comfortably and dozes as she listens. After that while, Gift falls silent. The rain falls steadily around them.

Thinking she'd won more of a respite from his probing questions, Sara is startled fully awake when John asks, "Will you come with us?"

Sara pauses. She can tell that this question has been weighing on his mind. She looks up at John, then glances at Gift. Gift's needle, undisturbed throughout his singing, halts for a moment before he continues and finishes mending the last tear in his coat, tying the thread off.

"When Todd comes, will you leave this planet with us?" John asks again. When he doesn't get an immediate response he presses on, "Where I'm from, Atlantis- we're working on making it a place where all can live together. Wraith, and humans, and humans of different worlds, together." He glances at Gift, then his eyes rest on her. "Or if you like, Todd has a couple hives. I'm sure they'd have a place for you."

"You do not know what you say," Gift hisses at him, the words pulled from his almost unwilling.

"A place for _both_ of you," John says over him. He shoots Gift a speculative look, but then looks at Sara again. "Or we could take you anywhere you want to go."

Sara looks back at him. She had been struck with the joy of the possibility of this exact thing just last night; she'd thought she would ask John's Wraith to take them away from here. But she hadn't thought to think beyond that… where they would _go_. She supposes it had rather been in the back of her mind that, once on a hive, Gift would be wrapped in the feeling of his fellow Wraith again and... not _forget_ her, she wouldn't think that, but that he wouldn't... _need_ her quite so much. Caring for him is more important; she hadn't thought what _her_ future would be.

"We will think on it," she says mildly.

 

That night, after the rain has passed through and John sleeps, Sara creeps down to the lake's edge. Gift sits on a rock, silhouetted against the starlight of the cleared sky.

"What do you think, Gift?" she asks. "About leaving."

Gift sighs. "You are my queen," is his reply.

Sara inhales. "The Bola Kai are fewer than they were before. We cannot stay here forever." She adds, tentatively, "He speaks of his city very highly. I think you might like it."

Gift reaches for her, pulling her hands to his face. "Go with him, my queen."

Sara's hands tighten against his skin. "I will go nowhere that you are not," she says flatly. "Gift. I will not lose everything I love twice."

His luminescent eyes are like stars themselves as he looks at her. He grins but it looks sad; it is an expression he has worn before, when she asks a question he cannot answer to her satisfaction. "My queen," he whispers. "I do not think it will be easy."

At that she laughs, her fingers moving in a caress against his cheek and over his sensory pits. "It will be different," she muses. "Fewer Bola Kai. Perhaps more Wraith?"

Gift is silent for a long while. "I will not bind myself to any queen other than you," he says and there is something in his tone that warns against any attempt to press this issue.

Sara just nods. "I would never ask it."

Gift looks up at her. "Never?"

"Never," she repeats.

Gift turns to look out at the lake. "Then we will go to the city of the Ancients," he says with such matter-of-factness that Sara could almost believe that he wasn't as apprehensive about it as she.

 

* * *

 

The days grow in number as they wait for John's Wraith.

John heals, in spite of spending a great deal of his time wandering through the high mountain forest and then more time wearing a path in the grasses as he runs laps around the lake's shoreline. Sara can't help but feel he should spend his time not straining his body quite so much.

 

Sara prepares herself to leave the planet that has become her home. There isn't much she wants to take with her, but she braves the old crash site of her world's ship in order to see if any mementos of her planet remain. It does seem a shame that no one should remember her people, but she does not remember either and she only takes from the remains of the wreck a piece of broken glass that reminds her of her mother's eyes. Gift takes the piece of glass she found and wraps the edges in long strips of cloth torn from the bottom of his coat, returning it to her as a pendant she wears around her neck. The glass rests just below the hollow between her collarbones and she soon develops a habit of touching it.

 

After days spent sparring, or sneaking past Bola Kai hunting parties, or exploring the northern valley where the packs of Courser-beasts gather- _"In my world, that's what we call a dog," John says, a deep satisfaction in his voice. "Of_ course _you have dogs in this galaxy." He frowns. "Though direwolves might be more accurate in this case."_ \- they spend the evenings which grow progressively cooler gathered around the fire, and John tells them stories about his city, and his distant world, and the many things that he has seen. Sara loves to listen to his stories, for she has seen so very little of the universe; at times she thinks he must be fabricating his escapades they seem so unreal but John just grins and assures her it's all true.

 

"They think they found the right system," John updates her one day as Sara beckons him over for supper.

"Excellent." Sara smiles. "You did warn your people, about the ships?"

"Yeah, McKay's on it."

Sara nods; John has told them of his team. She passes John some of the stew that had been slowly cooking throughout the day.

John nods his head in thanks as he takes the bowl from her and wraps his hands around its warmth. "He thinks it's some kind of magnetic field fluctuation." He shrugs. "They're gonna scout it in a jumper before trying anything like bringing the hive near the system."

"A 'jumper' is a smaller ship?"

John grins. "Yeah. Before, Todd and I were stranded on a planet that didn't have a DHD, so we used a jumper to dial the gate. They're gonna dial the gate, bring the jumper through, and we'll see if it can fly. Even if it can't, they know to stay close to the ground in case they need to land it fast, and we should still be able to use the jumper's DHD to dial the gate. As long as we don't get overrun with Bola Kai."

Sara nods. It sounds like a solid plan. "Perhaps we should move back to the lower camp? It is closer to the portal." She glances at Gift, who is crouched in easy relaxation just beyond the circle of the firelight.

"The Bola Kai have returned South and none of them remain in the area around the portal," Gift reports; she can tell by the way he shivers that he has fed recently, if his report didn't already reveal he'd been pacing their adversaries closely. "Though they have vented their anger entirely on the valley camp and torn up even the stones in the firepit," he adds.

Sara rolls her eyes. It's not the first time they've done that; it's more annoying and petty than truly harmful to her, and if she wasn't leaving this planet soon she would foment some of her usual retaliation. "We will return to the valley then and make a new camp," Sara says. "There is space for a ship to land, if that is what happens."

"I'll let them know," John says.

"To travel by the portal will be a momentous way to leave this place," Sara says absently.

John looks at her. "I suppose you haven't before."

She shakes her head.

"It's an experience, that's for sure." John grins.

 

* * *

 

They begin the journey to the lower camp the next day. Eighteen days after his injury- he's been counting them- John is mostly healed but still has occasional unexpected twinges of pain. Sara hovers near him, in case he should stumble on the mountain pathway and fall, but he takes her hand easily and she suspects he thinks he is helping _her_ to keep her balance. She uses her long spear as a walking stick.

They are almost to the lowest ridge, the one that rings the valley where Gift's ship crashed, when John says, "What's that?"

Sara, her eyes on the ground before them, looks up.

There is a dark streak of black cutting through the sky. It has been awhile since she has seen its like, but she knows what it is immediately. "It is a ship, crashing," Sara says apprehensively. "It is not your friends, is it?"

"No," John denies, but he starts to move more quickly. "We should check it out though. Just in case." He glances at Gift, on the path ahead of them.

"Gift," Sara calls. "We will follow the descent."

He turns back to snarl at her, but Sara holds his eyes commandingly and he drops his gaze. "Very well, my queen."

"Go ahead," she tells him. "I will come with John."

Gift's body tenses with his desire to refuse her, but he bows his head and turns and runs lightly down the mountain path away from them. Sara watches him go feeling both elated and bereft. She realizes suddenly that Gift has been thinking of the future as much as she has, and that he believes she will be safe with John. It is unsettling, but there is not time to dwell on the thoughts now.

Once they reach level ground, she and John break into an easy running stride. John does not seem discomposed by his injury, but he does seem to be concentrating heavily on breathing deeply.

The ship crosses the entire sky before it comes to ground far away toward the horizon. When night falls, they still have far to go to reach it but two of the moons are waxing full and there is enough light that they continue on for a while yet. They only make a quick, cold camp for a brief rest before dawn rouses them again.

Sara glances at John. He seems determined to seek out this unknown ship and she thinks he cannot be as certain as he'd sounded when he'd denied that it could be his companions. She doesn't say anything to him, but the Bola Kai must have seen the smoke just as she and John had. They will know what it means, and they will be coming as well.

 

It is late in the second day, near when the sun is setting, when they arrive at the crash site. The ship is still sending up a plume of black smoke so it is not hard to find, and Sara is not surprised to see Bola Kai hunters in the far distance, easily loping across the vastness of the plain toward the location. She's sure they can see her, too.

Gift comes to her when they approach close enough that they can see the crumpled vessel clearly. He kneels and presses his forehead to Sara's collarbone as she throws her arms around him. "There are three humans in the vessel," Gift reports. "One is dead now, and one is injured."

Sheppard moves past them and toward the ship before Sara can advise caution. "Is anyone alive in there?" he calls. His voice is thready with exertion.

An incredulous voice calls back, " _Sheppard_?" A woman looks down on them from where she has climbed on top of a piece of the wreckage. Her face and her dark-blonde hair are streaked with smoke and grime. She is holding an object in her hand that she is pointing at them as if it is some sort of weapon.

" _Larrin_?" Sheppard says back, sounding just as incredulous. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She doesn't answer and shifts the weapon to point it beyond John at Gift. "Still keeping interesting company I see, Sheppard."

Sara spreads her hands to draw attention. "We should leave here and retreat to a defensible position, for the Bola Kai are coming. Gift says that your companion is injured?"

The woman's face darkens. "Tobaan is dead. Kian can walk, though." Her eyes flicker back to the distance, and Sara wonders if she can see the Bola Kai. She jumps down from the twisted metal she was perched on to fall behind it, out of sight.

Sheppard moves around to meet her, and Sara follows. Gift hisses under his breath in disquiet and Sara reaches for him.

Sara hears the tearing shriek of metal as she comes around to where the others are. Larrin's companion is seated on the ground in a space apart from the ship; John crouches beside him to probe gently at the arm and shoulder of the man. "Collarbone's broken," is his judgement, and the man nods dazedly, his face tight with pain, fear, and shock. Sara can see a shrouded form the size and shape of a body lying just inside the open part of the vessel where Larrin is kicking and pulling parts of the ship open, metal shrieking. She uses a knife to slice a cord of some kind until a foul-smelling liquid pours down over the shroud. Parts of the ship are still burning, and the fire spreads quickly through the viscous liquid to engulf the body.

Sara could tell Larrin that the Bola Kai will not consume her companion, if that is her fear- if he is already dead then he has no power he can impart to them that they would wish to consume- but she is unsure if the burning is a ritual of their people that does not owe anything to the nearness of the Bola Kai and so she does not speak. They all stand for a few moments watching, as the body, and the ship, burn more quickly with Larrin's assistance, until Gift touches Sara's shoulder and she says, "The Bola Kai come closer. Let us take ourselves out of their reach." She turns and leads the way.

 

They strike off into the growing darkness, back in the general direction of the valley, though Sara isn't certain now that they should stay at so unprotected a camp. The man with the broken collarbone, Kian, must rest frequently as they travel. John acts as fore scout and Sara and Gift both work to disguise the trail the party leaves so that the Bola Kai cannot track them except by sight.

At one of their stops, John crouches beside Sara as she looks back at their trail under the moonlight. "They're gonna be mad again," he says softly. "Is there a better place to go, other than the valley?"

Sara has been thinking. She feels Gift settle at her elbow. "The cliff is too far," she says to Gift, musing aloud. "And there will be snow at the sky lake soon enough."

"The mountain valley?" Gift suggests.

"That would be excellent," Sara says in surprise. "Thank you, Gift, I had forgotten that camp." They have not been there in many seasons, not since she was attacked by a pack of Courser-beasts in that valley one harsh winter. With their larger group, and the season having been mild so far, that will not be a problem.

"How far?" John prompts.

"From here, we can cut through the mountains." Sara frowns, thinking. "We have never gone that way before, but Gift can still find the camp. Perhaps one more day."

John inhales slowly. "Okay." He goes to where Larrin is checking on Kian. "No time like the present to get started."

They walk under the moon for a while, but eventually need to rest again. Sara takes the moment and peers at the other woman. "You are called Larrin?"

Larrin looks back at her, her face impassive. "The Wraith is yours?"

Though neither of them are questions that haven't already been answered through observation, Sara nods. "You know John already?"

Larrin shoots him a mocking look. "He has a habit of turning up where he's needed," she allows, the words far more sincere than her tone.

"Thanks," John deadpans back at her. "You never said what you're doing here, by the way."

Larrin sighs with a weariness that seems greater than even their long trek can account for. "There's a vessel in orbit of one of this planet's moons. It's been there, seemingly abandoned, since one of our ships scouted it at least a decade ago, so we thought we'd come and see if we could get some use from it. Soon as we flew into the system, all the instruments in our ship went haywire. Couldn't keep altitude." She frowns in the direction of the crash site. "There was nothing wrong with the ship, nothing I could fix, the screens just weren't reading anything that made sense. Tobaan let the ship descend into the atmosphere of the planet and couldn't pull it back up. It was all I could do myself to control it enough to land it without scattering it across the entire plain."

John makes a gesture of comfort, but it is awkward and Larrin raises an eyebrow at him in skeptical refusal.

Kian grunts in pain as he shifts his weight and Sara opens the pack she carries on her back that contains some of the supplies they had been bringing with them from the sky lake camp. She pulls out some of the bloodflower root and passes it to Kian. "Chewing it helps," she tells him.

Larrin's eyes are on her companion rather than Sara when she observes, "You seem interested in taking in strangers. Is that how you found the Wraith?" And her eyes turn to scan the darkness in distrust; Gift is beyond the reach of the moonlight.

"Gift found _me_ ," Sara tells her easily.

John glares and breaks in to say, "You know Larrin, I'm sure we could find you some rope if you'd feel more comfortable tying her up before interrogating her."

Larrin smiles secretively. "Usually I only tie up people who enjoy it," she replies. "Of course, you're an exception, Sheppard. You're too slippery to do otherwise." Larrin looks back at Sara thoughtfully. "Gift found you," she repeats, then changes her direction of inquiry and asks, "Why do you put up with _him_ then?" She jerks her head at John.

Gift laughs, startling everyone but Sara as he melts out of the darkness to sit beside Sara on the side farthest from the others. He leans against her and offers her a pair of bloodflower plants he must have pulled up from where they grow on the plain. "The Bola Kai walk in the night, but I have led them in the wrong direction. They will not find us."

"Well done, Gift." Sara praises. She takes the bloodflower plants and adds them to her pack to be sorted when they reach the camp. She reaches and takes the hand of his that is nearest to her; it is his right hand, but she pulls his arm under hers and holds his closed hand against her face. "John is not terrible company," Sara answers Larrin's question. "Though I have been somewhat starved for comparison I suppose."

Larrin laughs, her expression, for a moment, more unguarded than it had been previously.

John rolls his eyes but is smiling underneath. He is far more relaxed in Gift's presence than Larrin and Kian are for the remainder of their rest.

 

With dawn they are in the mountains; Gift reports that the Bola Kai did walk past them in the night and had attempted to cut them off from the main camp in the valley with Gift's downed fighter. Sara supposes it is good that John thought not to return there, though she still hopes to travel by the portal when they leave.

They run into a small party of the Bola Kai in the foothills of the mountains.

When they sight them, Larrin draws her weapon and points it at their attackers. "Kian, give your magnum to Sheppard," she says. "And stay back."

"Gift can carry Kian," Sara replies, "so that we may retreat more quickly. We can take another path, around them."

"No," John argues, eyeing the hunting party of seven. "Gift, take Sara to safety."

Larrin looks at Sara. "You should go with the Wraith," she agrees. "Kian would keel over the minute the Wraith touched him, anyway."

Sara narrows her eyes at the pair of them and holds up her hand in stark refusal when Gift reaches for her. "You think I have gone to all the trouble I have to just leave you here now? Hive preserve me," she growls, and grips her knife in her hand.

Larrin grins. "I like stubborn. Alright, we do it your way. Kian, go with the Wraith."

Kian passes out, as predicted, but Gift carries him easily as he and Sara retreat behind the protective screen Larrin and Sheppard lay down with the weapons fire. The Bola Kai quickly grow wary of dodging the blasts after Larrin takes out the first with her weapon and the hunting party wanders back toward the plain as Sara's group climbs after Gift into the mountains.

Within hours they reach the mountain valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing and I thank you for your patience as I wrestled this chapter into something that feels more finished.  
> This story likes to surprise me with opportunities for further research at every turn. That said, while friends have always described my musical tastes as eclectic, I was just introduced to khoomei and Tuvan throat singing (on which my description of Wraith music is largely based) and I love it more than seems humanly possible. XD  
> For the most part I like to let y'all imagine the landscape of the fic as you will (though you're always welcome to ask questions about anything I fail to describe sufficiently), but I did a bunch of reading about extinct carnivores so I wanted to share that I intended the Courser-beasts to be members of the genus Daphoenodon; they're not technically dogs, or direwolves, but they are in the larger caniformia group.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara, Gift, and Co hang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter warning:** This chapter contains a lot of talking about sex (as if you expected anything less now that Larrin's showed up). Nothing is graphic and nothing actually _happens_ in the story, so I debated but eventually decided these things weren't worth tagging for specifically, but just an FYI, in this chapter:  
> 1) A character mentions a sexual assault that happened to another character in the past.  
> 2) Another character refers to an instance of rape that happened in their past.  
> 3) There is a conversation where the sexual nature and agency of a minor is discussed.  
> 4) A side character expresses a homophobic attitude and is immediately shut down.

 

When they arrive at the mountain valley camp, Gift lays the unconscious man beside the firepit. He looks down at his former burden with an unreadable look, but quickly backs away with a soft snarl when Larrin comes immediately to kneel beside Kian.

Sara reaches for Gift and pulls him against her, leaning her weight on him. "We are much less alone than we were before," she murmurs against his chest.

Gift sighs and puts his arm around her. "You have been enough until now," he murmurs. "Though hive is the natural state for Wraith."

Sara presses her face into the crook of his shoulder, but then rouses herself to business, collecting the packs that she and Gift had carried from their previous camp and taking them into the camp's shelter. The firepit is set out a bit from a natural cave which forms the main shelter; just inside the mouth of the cave is a cache where supplies are stored. "We will need more bloodflower before this is over, I suspect," Sara mentions to Gift, who grunts an affirmative.

Since they are no longer moving, Larrin gently pulls off Kian's jacket and makeshift sling, prodding firmly at the bone. "It's hard to be sure without a scanner but I don't think it's bad," she says, mostly to John, who stands across from her.

Gift drifts away to gather wood to make a fire, and Sara leaves them as well. After storing her supplies in the cache, she checks to make sure that no animals have made a home in the cave since her last visit. The cave is larger than the shelter at the sky lake; she has never needed to make use of its depths before, but she takes a prepared rushlight from the cache and uses it to explore farther back than she ever has before. The candle lasts long enough for her to ascertain that the cave will be large enough and there is no fresh spoor to indicate that it has been a home for any other creature since her and Gift's last visit. Stamping out the remains of her rush, Sara reaches to pull the roll of hides and furs from the high alcove where Gift had hidden them seasons ago; she shakes some grassy squeaker nests from hides that bear evidence of gnawing, but it is not the season for young so they are currently abandoned.

She comes back out to where Larrin and John are crouched beside the firepit in time to hear part of their conversation.

"So, what's your end goal?" Larrin asks. "We ran from the Bola Kai, but do you plan to keep running? Is there a ship?" She narrows her eyes at John. "A Stargate?"

"All ships crash here," John observes with a wince as he takes advantage of their respite and prods his side, "like yours did. And the Stargate can't be dialed from this side. But we have a rescue coming."

Larrin nods, though she doesn't relax her tension. She leans back, and Sara cuts in to say, "We can make Kian comfortable in the cave."

Larrin nods again, revealing her own weariness in the repetition of the gesture. They carry Kian into the cave and lay him on some of the furs. Larrin crouches beside him, tense, and Sara assures her, "We are far from the Bola Kai, and no animals will bother us with a group this large. Rest."

Larrin stirs. "The Wraith," she asks warily.

"He's not going to come after you," John protests, depositing some hides against another wall of the cave where he intends to make his bed.

"Gift has fed recently," Sara adds. "You may sleep without fear."

Sara is not certain which of their assurances Larrin believes, but the woman lies down beside her companion with a weary necessity, weapon still in her hand as she is claimed by sleep.

 

John helps Sara ready the camp. She sets the fire in the pit and sends John with the cookpot to fetch some water from the river, though when he returns the strain from holding the weight of the filled cauldron is obvious on his face. He doesn't speak but presses a hand to his side.

"I have another task that you must do," Sara tells him. "Alert your friends of our new position. With Kian's injury, it is best we do not come any closer to Bola Kai patrolled territory. Even with these new weapons that Larrin has brought we would be too vulnerable to attack."

John grins at her, amused. "Where I'm from we call that busy work," he says, but he sits down and leans back, his eyes closing as he reaches to touch minds with his Wraith.

Sara has prodigiously envied him in these moments. To reach out and be able to touch Gift's mind... But she has been too hesitant to cause affront, or too busy, to ask him if this is a thing that is specific to John or if she can learn it.

As if he does hear her thoughts in that moment, Gift returns and sits beside her. They sit together beside the fire for a while, Sara combing her fingers through Gift's hair, but, when John rouses from his task and begins to speak to Sara, Gift rises and disappears into the trees, only to return when the falling night has her banking the fire and she and John seeking their beds.

Gift finds her in the dark cave. Her fingers stroke through his pale hair, a light shadow against darker shadows. She feels at home with his forehead resting against her breastbone.

 

* * *

 

Larrin sleeps through to the next morning.

When she wakes, she joins Sara sitting by the firepit. Sara is scouring the cooking pan she pulled from the cache and the two of them are alone for the moment. Kian is asleep again after Sara woke him to give him more bloodflower root just before dawn, and John and Gift both vanished into the trees earlier this morning.

Sara looks at the older woman. She has wiped her face clean, but she does not appear rested from her sleep. "Are you well?" Sara asks.

Larrin nods shortly. Her eyes scan the trees that fill the area between the camp and the river and turn eventually to focus on Sara. "The Wraith isn't here?"

"Gift has probably returned to the foothills and the plain to search for more bloodflower for Kian," Sara replies. "But he will return soon." She looks at Larrin.

Larrin's lip curls. Her weapon is tucked into her jacket, but her fingers linger on it. Sara passes her some of the dried _cevik_ meat that remains. Larrin regards it doubtfully, then bites into it and chews thoughtfully.

Sara is organizing the other supplies stored at this camp. Some will need seeing to before they can be useful- one of the hides has a large tear in it that she sets aside for Gift to sew. It is Larrin who speaks first in their next exchange. "How do you dial the Stargate?"

Sara looks up at her in confusion. "It cannot be activated from this side of the portal. John said as much yesterday."

Larrin narrows her eyes skeptically. "Sheppard also said his people were coming. How did he communicate with them if the Stargate doesn't work? Do you have a ship, is that it?" She seems to sense that Sara is put off by her insistence and she adds more softly, "I need to contact the high council and tell them what happened before they send another ship to come looking for us."

Sara turns her attention back to her task. "Can John's people not contact your people and inform them that you are here?"

"Hmph." Larrin regards her with a long, speculative look. "Sheppard put you up to that?"

Confused again, Sara doesn't answer.

Larrin changes her line of questioning. "How do you get the Wraith to follow your commands?"

"Gift and I are hive," Sara says somewhat shortly. "I am his queen."

Larrin makes a disgruntled sound. "So, probably not something we could use with the rest of them." She eyes Sara. "Unless you think you could get more of them to follow you."

Sara scowls. "I would never force hive on others," she says hotly. "It would betray everything that Gift has suffered." Sara falls silent suddenly. "Hive is sacred," she tries to deflect.

Larrin looks at her thoughtfully.

John's hand comes to rest on Sara's shoulder for a moment before he eases himself down to sit beside her.

She'd heard him walking toward them but Sara inhales now, as if the presence of more people makes her blunder less able to be brushed aside. John takes from her hand the tangle of a poorly coiled length of rope that she is trying to set right and begins to slowly untangle the woven rope and coil it properly. Sara breathes out.

Sara has wanted, for a long time, for someone to tell her she is doing the right thing. Ever since she was old enough to understand why Gift always answered her differently when she asked about his former life, she has known that truly helping him was not something she understood how to do. John knows about Wraith, and though Larrin doesn't seem to care about Wraith she is strong and confident in a way that makes Sara think she knows many things about life. Sara wonders if it is a betrayal of Gift to speak, or if it is a thing that in a true hive everyone would know, connected as Wraith minds would be, and so there would be no need to speak of it.

"Gift's hive was damaged," Sara tells them, putting together the pieces she has gleaned over the years. "I think it was a battle with another hive, but I think also that there was something wrong in it. A sickness perhaps." She shakes her head. "Many Wraith died. The loss of life made their Queen senseless, with the sorrow of it. She became... grasping, holding desperately to every Wraith that remained. They, in turn, thrust this desperation upon each other. As if by affirming the strength of their remaining bonds, they could erase the pain of the lost ones." Sara's hands are wrapped tightly around each other. John does not falter in his winding of the coil of rope, Larrin continues chewing the dried _cevik_ meat, and their continuation gives Sara courage. "Gift was... not pleased by this. He did not desire the closeness that the other Wraith wanted from him." She unknots her hands. "The hive came to this system, and what happened then is as you have seen with Larrin's ship. The hive could not be controlled, and the Queen was mad with her sorrow and had no wish to control it. It shattered itself upon the smallest of the moons above this planet. Some Wraith escaped the hive in fighter ships, and were able to survive on the other moons, or even upon this world- only in places far, far distant from this one. But now, only Gift remains." She swallows and confesses, "I think he is very conflicted concerning his memories of his hive. It was his home, and beloved. But in the end, it caused him pain." Sara wipes at her eyes. "He felt the others all leave him until he was the only one left."

There is a long moment where the only sound is the slithering of the rope as John winds it. "We call the fighters 'darts'," John offers. "'Cause they're so pointy."

Sara breathes out, the hold of the memory broken, and nods. "I remember, from your stories."

John nods. "I can see why Gift would be wary of other Wraith," he says eventually, his hands stilling. "Even if a part of him wanted to be glad for the chance to not be alone." He pauses. "I know saying it won't mean much, but I swear no one's going to force anything on him." He glares a bit at Larrin.

Larrin rolls her eyes but her words are soft instead of mocking. "Claws in, Sheppard." She pauses a moment before continuing, "My people are always looking for advantages. With our ships filling with people and the resources to obtain more ships so few... Well. When this girl had her pet Wraith fetching firewood, I thought..." She shakes her head and reaches with her hands to pick a knot out of the still tangled end of the rope that has spread to the area before her feet. "I thought that would be a definite advantage." She flicks the end of the rope. "I didn't think that Wraith had reasons for why they do things. That they depend on good leadership as much as any who live in the sky." She is silent for a long moment, scowling, though the expression is distant. "Sometimes you make sacrifices to put yourself in a place where you can change things." She shakes herself, returning to the moment. "And I understand loving something and hating it at the same time."

John is silent, as if he is reading more in Larrin's words than their bald meaning, but Sara cares only that Larrin has stopped thinking that Sara can somehow use her connection with Gift to force Wraith to obey her. Gift may call her queen, but she has long been aware that it is not an acclamation of her status as much as it is a rejection of his former life.

"In our second summer," Sara says, "I was hiding from the Bola Kai and I fell from a tree that I had climbed. I broke my leg." She inhales slowly. "Gift was... anguished. I... I believe that only my need for his care kept him from losing himself completely in my pain." She reaches for the rope but doesn't do anything except hold a length of it for a moment, then let it fall. "I do not know much about how it works, but I know that hive is important to Wraith. They need each other. It is not a thing to treat as lightly as you would have me do."

"It's like family," Larrin muses.

"Hive's not quite the same as humans think of family," John puts in. "Hive is... paramount. The whole is more important than the individual members. If the hive doesn't take care of its members then it loses what it means to be hive, but also the members of the hive can sacrifice themselves or be sacrificed to ensure that the hive survives." Larrin is looking skeptical again, and John shrugs. "Like I said, it's not quite the same. But Sara's right." He smiles at her. "Hive is important to Wraith."

After a long moment, Larrin stands from where they were sitting and walks away, toward the trees.

John stirs himself to continue coiling the rope. When he is finished, he presents it to Sara.

Sara puts the properly coiled rope in the cache. "Gift doesn't have a hive," she says softly. "Is that bad for him?"

"He has you," John replies. "And that's been a good thing, hasn't it?"

Sara nods. It's not really what she was asking, but she supposes it will do for the moment.

 

It's sometime later when Larrin returns.

Sara and John have helped Kian to a seat by the fire, and Gift comes and sits beside Sara, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. He had brought a satchel of the bloodflower root with him when he had returned, as she had suspected was his errand.

John is helping Sara distribute supper when Larrin walks up and stands in front of him, looking down at him with her hands planted on her hips. "You said rescue was coming, but you don't have any way of knowing that."

"My people don't leave anyone behind," John says mildly. Sara senses a rebuke in the way he says it.

Larrin seems unaffected by John's judgement, just raising an eyebrow. "You know more about the Wraith than any sane person should."

John tries to hold her gaze, but she makes a gesture with the fingers of her right hand that seems to indicate the marking on John's palm, and he flushes. He rises to stand before her, but Larrin still gives the impression that she is looking down at him, only moving her eyes to keep him in sight.

"You remember Todd, from when we destroyed the Replicator planet," John says. "We're..." He holds out his right hand, as if this will answer her without words, or as if looking at its markings gives him strength. "We're... together. A couple."

Larrin leans back slightly at the news; her expression is that of someone who already suspected this answer but is still surprised to receive it. She looks both shocked and interested, appalled and fascinated. "Well, Sheppard," she drawls. "You really are never boring."

John seems still trepidatious, and Sara stands, drawing Larrin's eyes to her. Sara lifts her chin in challenge and holds out supper to Larrin.

Larrin narrows her eyes in humor as she reaches around John and takes the food from Sara. She drops down to sit between Kian and John.

Though his expression is somewhat hazy from pain and the bloodflower root, Kian is giving John a look of horrified disgust. Larrin says to him sharply, "Shut up and eat." Kian drops his gaze to his food. He finishes it quickly and gets himself to his feet with one hand and stumbles back to the cave. He does not ask for assistance, and no one offers.

John seems uncomfortable, but Larrin refuses to acknowledge it. "How soon before your people get here?" she demands.

John shakes his head. "No idea. I don't know the gate address for this planet, so there's a certain amount of guesswork involved in them figuring out where we are exactly."

"But they know that you're here," Larrin observes.

John's hand clenches before he forces it to relax. "I can... connect, mentally, with Todd." He touches his temple. "He knows that I'm alive, and he was able to speak to Gift to learn what he and McKay need in order to find us."

"Now that is useful," Larrin murmurs. She regards John evaluatively. "Being able to use it without getting your life sucked away is the challenge, I guess. Though the return is a rush, as I recall." John rolls his eyes. "I'd think he'd be here as quick as he could." Larrin's tongue rests on the edge of her teeth for a moment. "Get his hands on you again."

"Dammit, Larrin." John groans, hiding his face in his hands. "They need to bring with them, too, a way to make sure we can _get back_. As you may have noticed, ships tend to crash here."

"True enough." Larrin says. She is silent for a moment before she adds, "I remember the coordinates on the nav that brought us to this system," she offers. "That could be a help."

"It couldn't hurt," John replies. He shoots her a tense look, then relaxes enough to smile. "Thanks."

Larrin says with a grin, "Oh, Sheppard, I hope it does a lot more than not hurt." She pulls a long, slender block of some sort of dark material out of her pocket and presses her finger on one side of it several times as Sara watches her with fascination.

John flushes and looks away. "For God's sake, Larrin, lay off. There are children present."

Larrin pauses and looks at Sara speculatively. "I bet she knows more about it than you." She tosses John the block.

"I'm not a child," Sara protests when she realizes that John is speaking of her.

"Sorry," John says to her. "Where I come from, you would be considered one."

Sara is familiar with the mechanics of sex and isn't sure why this is something that would embarrass John, though she has to admit that she is less familiar with the reasons why anyone would be interested in _doing_ it. "Does it hurt?" she asks. "It seems terribly inconvenient in any case."

John groans again, and Larrin laughs delightedly. "Not if your partner knows what they're doing," she says with a weight of seriousness that belies the spark of humor in her eyes. "Unless you want it to," she adds, with an eyebrow raised in question at John. He ignores her.

"So why do people like it?" Sara presses. Gift, on her other side, seems as uninterested in continuing this topic as John, though Gift simply leans his face against the back of her shoulder and succeeds in ignoring them entirely.

"A lot of people think it feels really good," Larrin says thoughtfully. "And some people like using that particular way of feeling good to get closer to the people they care about." A shadow crosses her face. "And some people do it for other reasons. But you should never do it if it doesn't feel good." 

Sara frowns again and fiddles with the edge of her sleeve. "How do you know if it feels good?"

"Okay, I'm going to walk down to the river," John says, getting up and suiting actions to words.

Larrin laughs.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronon and the team travel to the planet where they think they will find Sheppard.

"That's the one," McKay says, and he _sounds_ confident until he adds, "Has to be."

"That is what you said about the _last_ planet," Teyla reminds him.

McKay glowers at her, but his expression softens quickly because no one glowers at Teyla without consequence. "I didn't have all the math then. This time I'm sure."

Ronon rolls his eyes. "What makes you 'sure' about this planet?"

"Okay, you do understand that the symbols on the Stargate are just galactic positions as represented by star constellations? This one matches five symbols with one of the addresses I pulled from the Da'sha gate."

"And the previous address didn't?" Teyla queries.

"Um, the last one was one Zelenka and I came up with based on the constellations Todd gave us," he says somewhat sheepishly, and while Ronon can't fault him for being over-eager he _can_ be annoyed that his leg is still sore from that disaster of a planet. "For _this_ one we cross-referenced with the data from the Da'sha gate and that refined the calculations by a few star systems," McKay continues. "We were in the right quadrant of the galaxy," he defends, like that makes it better. "Now I know. It's this one, I'm _certain_."

Ronon frowns. "I thought none of the addresses from the Da'sha gate were ones that worked?"

" _Because_  some of the symbols were corrupted. Are you even listening?"

"And you _know_ this address is an actual planet," Ronon pushes.

McKay scowls at him. "Woolsey was all doubtful like you two, so I told Todd to have the hive dial it and see. Kenny's got the hive somewhere between here and Helen's place, but Todd says that he says it worked. The coordinates locked a gate." McKay waves a hand. "Can we stop talking about this and do it already?"

Teyla tries to share an amused look with Ronon, but Ronon's not feeling it. The last planet McKay was _sure_ about had not, overall, been a great experience; McKay still has a welt on the back of his neck from the damned insects and Ronon had almost broken his leg trying to run through a mess of clinging vines in order to shoot the creature they'd happened upon before it gored Teyla. McKay had felt it was necessary to check out the lead and Teyla had backed him; Woolsey hadn't offered any impediment that time and Ronon thought that the arrangement with the Wraith was a bit more fragile without Sheppard present than Woolsey wanted to admit.

Ronon himself had been so certain that the universe had finally caught up to Sheppard and demanded that he pay what he owed. But he can only humor the rest of his team so long before he _believes_ McKay when he says _this time_ it'll be the right planet.

His skepticism is hindered even further by the damn Wraith. Todd seemed to have come through in his assertion that he can touch Sheppard's mind and had given McKay details about the planet where Sheppard is, and charts of the stars visible from it; he wrote a report for their reconnaissance team that contains more detail than any person could ever want to read. Ronon's still convinced half of it's nonsense, and he's twice as unsure that Kenny is telling them the truth, but he can't think of a reason _why_. Ronon knows that Todd wants this alliance; he was on New Athos when Todd submitted himself to be questioned by the Athosians after all, and, for as weird as Todd can be even for a Wraith, Ronon can't see a Wraith voluntarily undergoing being drugged and questioned by multiple groups of humans without getting _something_ out of it that he wants. Todd knows enough about them to know that if he's lying it's not going to end well for him. So, there's no reason for Todd to be stringing them along this much if it's not true- or if he doesn't at least _believe_ it's true.

In spite of everything, Ronon's been trying to hold out on believing until he lays eyes on Sheppard. That plan gets hard to hold on to in the face of McKay's hopefulness and the absolutely uncanny way that Caldwell seems to have accepted Todd as a presence on Atlantis that doesn't need to be under constant guard.

 

* * *

 

"If no ships can fly on this planet, why are we taking the jumper through the gate?" Sergeant Chandra asks.

They're in the conference room, Ronon, Teyla, McKay, Woolsey, and Lorne and Lorne's team, and McKay's giving the briefing on their destination. Or at least he's trying to, but Chandra and Sitwell are pretty new and keep interrupting. Ronon's trying not to laugh at McKay's exasperation, but he also feels the same impatience to get this part over with and get on to the important part- the _going._

"We need the DHD in the jumper to dial back to Atlantis," Lorne explains with more patience and less sarcasm than Ronon would have credited to him, but Lorne's also distracted with perusing Todd's report. Maybe it's because they almost got themselves killed on the last planet, but Lorne insisted on his team backing them up this time.

"The Stargate is situated on level ground," McKay explains in annoyance. "Worst case scenario, we can just set down if the ship won't fly."

"You say 'we', but you mean me," Lorne murmurs without looking up.

"Yes," McKay allows. "Have I mentioned that I'm so glad you could come with us this time?"

Ronon huffs a laugh. Maybe McKay invited Lorne to come along. From the start he hasn't been happy about his position on the team as sole possessor of the ATA gene, though that is usually more about Sheppard being gone than about McKay being called upon to pull off the type of impossible stunts, like flying a ship where ships can't be flown, that historically have come more easily to Sheppard.

"Best case scenario," McKay continues, "it won't be an issue."

Captain Reed laughs softly. "Best case scenarios are so nice," he murmurs longingly.

It's Lieutenant Sitwell's turn to ask the question. "Wait, not an issue? The report states very clearly that every ship that has tried to approach the planet has crashed." Sitwell might have been on Atlantis for a longer period than Chandra, but he's the newest to Lorne's reconnaissance team and Ronon's abruptly done with their questions.

"We're not trying to approach the planet," Ronon offers, ready to cut McKay a break and get this party moving. He stands up. "Any more questions? Good. Let's go."

Lorne smirks and motions to his team to gear up.

"Your final member will meet you in the jumper bay," Woolsey reminds them as they're departing and Ronon sneers.

 

The seven of them have just managed to situate themselves in the jumper and Lorne is beginning the preflight when Ronon feels the soldiers behind him suddenly fall silent and he knows that their last participant has arrived. Ronon turns in his seat to glare out the rear of the jumper.

Todd strides into the jumper like he deserves to be there. He walks past the marines and to the cockpit, pausing to lean in the doorway when the seats are all taken, and addresses McKay, "Did you program the jumper with the information about the navigational disturbance?"

McKay turns in the copilot's seat to shoot him a withering look. "Of _course_ I did, but if _you_ want to double check it?" he says snidely.

Todd grins darkly and doesn't reply, but Ronon stands from where he's sitting behind McKay and gestures his seat to Todd. Todd inclines his head in mocking thanks; they both know that sitting down, rather than standing and looming over them, is the more vulnerable position. When Todd takes the seat, with Ronon now standing in the doorway and looming, the tension in the jumper drops noticeably. Because he's a shit, Todd adds, "The Traveler Larrin was able to give Sheppard coordinates which I confirmed against our destination."

McKay looks pleased at this assurance but pretends not to be. Todd offers corrections to McKay's calculations on the navigation, but from the tenor of McKay's protests Ronon can tell that they are both minor and actually helpful.

Lorne ignores all of that and checks in with Operations. The jumper descends into the gateroom. Ronon's still trying to hold on to his skepticism, but he feels McKay's and Teyla's anticipation infect him. They're going to find Sheppard.

 

* * *

 

The moment they arrive through the Stargate, Teyla looks at Todd. The Wraith nods and an undefinable tension in his face eases. "Sheppard is here."

Lorne is frowning, his hands stiff on the controls. The jumper rises jerkily before flying between some trees, and then sweeping over them and toward a high ridge. "Nav readings are... sluggish." The jumper dips to the side and Lorne corrects it. "I'm not sure what's going on," Lorne says. "It looks like the sensors are just... not reading anything that makes sense." He stares out of the viewport intently. They pass over the ridge, barely, and Ronon braces himself as the jumper narrowly misses more trees while crossing a mostly open plain. Lorne concentrates on bringing the ship to ground as smoothly as possible. "I know it probably doesn't feel like it," he murmurs, "but that was a lot easier than I was expecting."

"It's because we didn't enter the atmosphere from space," McKay says. He barely blinked at the rough landing but seems to feel the weight of Lorne's eyes on him and looks up. "Oh, you read _Todd's_ report and not mine? True, it was mostly theoretical before we got here. Anyway, the likely cause of the disturbance which makes all the ships lose control and crash isn't coming from the planet. It's coming from the moons _orbiting_ the planet. My prevailing theory is that they're insanely rich in magnetic ores."

Ronon had enjoyed McKay's report more than Todd's actually. "Too bad we can't fly up there and test it out."

McKay snorts. "Let's do one impossible thing at a time maybe," he says. It's a rather un-McKay-like sentiment, but Ronon knows McKay is just as anxious as the rest of them to find Sheppard.

Teyla stands between Lorne and McKay, looking at the control board thoughtfully. "Can we trust any of the equipment?"

"It looks like our patch wasn't able to correct for the issue, just disconnect the controls from the sensors enough that we can fly the jumper without them." McKay shrugs. "As for other things, life signs detector seems to be working, but I wouldn't want to rely on it." He frowns at the readings. "Looks like there's a large population south of us," he observes.

"The DHD?" Lorne interrupts.

McKay assures him, "Yes, yes, that's a different kind of system."

"How do we find Colonel Sheppard?" Reed asks.

Teyla is looking at Todd. Ronon growls under his breath.

"Sheppard is in the mountains," Todd says. His eyes are closed and he tilts his head, as if listening to something. "They are east and slightly north of our position." He opens his eyes and regards the humans who watch him. "The settlement south of our position is comprised of Bola Kai."

Lorne nods. "That was in your report," he says, speaking to Todd but saying it in a tone meant to remind Ronon and the others.

Ronon glares at Lorne and privately maintains what he'd thought when he first read the information; Bola Kai are nomads and they don't live in settlements.

"Okay," Lorne continues. "That DHD is the only way out of here so, rather than risk it flying in mountains we'll go on foot." Lorne turns to his men. "Reed, Sitwell, you're staying with the jumper. Keep it cloaked until we get back. Chandra, you're with us."

Lorne's team has the rear hatch open, but Ronon is the first one out of the jumper and scouting the area. There is a wreck of a Wraith dart not far away; it looks like someone's tried to set fire to it at some point after it crashed. A bit further on there is the remains of a campsite but it's been torn to pieces by someone with a lot of time and a deep-seated hatred. Back tracking a bit Ronon can see where some of the stones from the firepit have been heaved at the dart in an attempt to cause the downed ship further damage.

Todd pauses beside the dart for a moment, then turn his attention eastward. He barely checks to make sure the humans are following him before he sets off climbing the ridge. 

 

Once they come down the other side of the ridge, Todd leads them on a mostly level path along the edge of the mountains for a few hours before turning and striking into the mountains proper. He's not following any sort of physical trail and so Ronon ranges out a bit rather than follow precisely, getting a feel for this planet and its environment.

Ronon pauses, dropping into a crouch and poking at some weeds with his knife.

Lorne stops beside him. "What is it?"

Ronon points. "This plant was dug up, to get to the root." He indicates the wilted stalk of the plant itself, tossed to the side. Lorne waits, and Ronon adds, "It was done by a Wraith. You can see the marks from the long nails, here."

Lorne nods. "We know there's another Wraith here," he reminds Ronon. "It was in the report." He says the last like he thinks he might be the only one who read it.

Ronon grunts and rises to his feet, starting after the others. He read the stupid report, but that doesn't mean he believed it; and he _knows_ there's another Wraith here- isn't that why they're all moving with their weapons ready even though the Bola Kai are supposed to be miles away?

But... why is a Wraith digging up roots?

 

Once they pass fully into the mountain range, their increasingly spotty radio contact with the jumper team vanishes completely. Lorne doesn't like it, but the best course is to press on and reach their goal as quickly as possible.

 

They're hiking up a mountain and McKay's complaining, a familiar enough counterpoint to any exertion, is noticeably absent. Ronon checks on him and finds him unusually short of breath.

"He's doing well," Teyla assures Ronon, having been keeping a closer eye on their teammate, "But the altitude is not something we have much experience with." She smiles tolerantly, and McKay only glares and pants onward.

 

They're making good time and eventually Todd halts, his face raised to the wind. "They are in the valley ahead," he says.

Now that he's tracking with something other than a noncorporeal and possibly made-up mental connection, Ronon pushes past Todd and takes the lead.

The valley is a small bowl tucked between high peaks. A river cuts through one side and there is enough tree cover that Ronon can't see every part of the valley clearly. He can see enough to make out a clear area near what looks like a cave mouth that must be a campsite, complete with a fire that releases a thin stream of smoke. There's a human shape moving near it, but it's too far away to tell if it's Sheppard.

They entered the bowl near the river and Ronon continues down, following the water as he makes his way in closer. He's moving slowly, slipping from tree to tree, and it doesn't take long before he sees movement ahead of him. Between trees, an outline solidifies into a Wraith standing in the river, gazing into the water intently. Its hand snaps out then withdraws from the water holding a writhing fish.

Ronon raises his magnum and sights down the length of it at the Wraith. There're too many trees to get a great shot, but it would take a few blasts to take down the Wraith completely anyway.

There is a sharp prick of pain in his abdomen and Ronon looks down.

A young girl stands beside him. She is dressed in a well-made outfit of tanned leather, her black hair escaping in wisps from a long braid to curl around her face. He hadn't heard her approach; she materialized as if out of thin air. A sharpened stake of wood is held tightly in her grip, the tip of it pointed directly at Ronon's liver. Her eyes are hard, and she does not speak; her expression reminds him of Tyre. Ronon lifts his magnum so that it's pointed up instead of at the Wraith.

The girl frowns at him. "I have not seen one like you before."

Ronon stares back at her.

She frowns. "What are you doing here?" she demands.

There is a soft hissing behind Ronon, and he realizes that with his preoccupation with the girl he'd lost track of the Wraith. "He comes with the others, my queen," the Wraith's voice whispers.

The girl's eyes fly open wide but her grip on her weapon doesn't falter. "You are here with John's people?"

"Yes," he answers, finally.

She nods, then fixes him with a sharp gaze. "Gift is mine, and you will not harm him," she demands. She has not moved the spear pointed at his liver, and she doesn't seem like she's going to.

Ronon's lip curls in an automatic snarl. The Wraith moves around from behind him to crouch by the girl protectively. He seems intent on attacking Ronon when Ronon attacks the girl, and that's outrageous enough that Ronon says, "Okay," and lowers the magnum completely.

The girl is still wary but pulls back her spear. She regards him skeptically. "Who are you?"

"Ronon," he replies. "What's your name?"

Her expression brightens at his answer. "I am Sara. John has spoken of you, Ronon, so I know you hold a deep hatred for the Wraith." Her eyes narrow with a weight beyond her years behind them, and she reaches out to the Wraith, who comes immediately to her hand and curls his cheek in her palm. "Gift will not attack you or cause you any trouble. But he has been the savior of my life and should harm come to him I swear I will be the avenger of his blood," she says with calm certainty. She jerks her head toward the river. "If you follow the river to the place where it widens you will see where the path has been worn clean and it will lead you to the campsite."

Ronon can't help but stare at her. She is a _child_ and she is standing here, claiming a familial relationship, telling him she will kill him if he hurts the Wraith beside her, as if that is how the universe works at all. He turns away, because he's not here for her, and follows the river to where it widens.

He looks up the path to the camp and he sees Sheppard and Teyla embracing. There is a broad grin on Sheppard's face as he pulls one arm free and wraps it around McKay, slapping him on the back. He laughs at something Teyla says and pulls McKay in closer and all three of them are smiling. Sheppard looks up and sees Ronon approaching. He pulls back from the other two and steps forward. "Ronon." He holds out his hand with a grin. "Thanks for coming, man."

Ronon disregards the hand offered to him and throws his arms around Sheppard. Sheppard grunts slightly with the force of Ronon's embrace but manages to free one of his arms enough that he can wrap it around Ronon in return. He sounds like Sheppard, and he smells like Sheppard, and he feels like Sheppard, warm and alive and refusing to obey the universe, and Ronon can't speak. He'd thought all ability to believe in things had been burned out of him. When Sheppard had been intent on rekindling that fire Sheppard had paid the price, just like Melena, and just like Tyre. But now, the fire is burning and Sheppard is alive.

"Hey," Sheppard says. He smiles his crooked smile and seems to understand that words aren't going to help the situation.

Ronon slaps Sheppard's shoulder hard enough that he stumbles and almost falls over, and Ronon steps back.

The girl, Sara, is walking out of the trees flanked by the Wraith Gift on one side and Todd on the other. Todd's eyes are fixed on Sheppard, and Ronon's pleased enough that the stupid Wraith was _right_ that he doesn't even have to look away as Sheppard steps immediately toward Todd and throws his arms around him, holding him tightly. Todd's arms wrap around Sheppard as well, and he bends to press his face to the top of Sheppard's head, his eyes closing in satisfaction.

Sheppard clears his throat and steps back, but before he can finish extracting himself his eyes catch on Todd's, and he lingers for a moment as Todd's fingers caress the curve of Sheppard's unshaven cheek.

Lorne clears his throat as well, and Sheppard turns to him, grasping his forearm with a grin. "Good to see you, sir," Lorne says.

"You guys are really a sight for sore eyes," Sheppard says. "Larrin's around somewhere. Her man, Kian, has a broken collarbone. And this is Sara," he gestures for her to step forward, "and Gift."

Gift glances at them, his upper lip lifted in an omnipresent snarl. His perusal pauses at Teyla for a moment, but quickly moves on.

Ronon's trying to keep an eye on everyone and he sees Larrin return to the campsite from wherever she'd been previously. She looks up and notices them but doesn’t approach.

Lorne nods to Sara. "Thank you for keeping Colonel Sheppard in one piece until we could find him."

She smiles tentatively. "He was good company. I did not regret my decision."

Lorne and McKay laugh, and Ronon sees Sara relax as her offering of humor is received.

"Did you have trouble with the jumper?" Sheppard asks. When Lorne and the others give him an odd look, he continues, "Todd said you were going to bring the jumper and McKay thought that it would be fine because the navigation instrument disturbances were mainly affecting ships in the exosphere or further out in the planetary system."

Lorne grins tightly and Ronon feels the same shiver of something bitter but also pleasing run up his spine; that Sheppard knows so much of their plans is proof that the connection between Todd and Sheppard is real, and it's two way, but it's also proof that Sheppard is really _present_ and himself. "Actually, the instruments were pretty useless. I was flying the jumper mostly by feel and guiding by sight." Lorne's grin widens a bit in the way that Ronon's come to recognize as being common to Air Force personnel, but then he frowns in sudden thought. "I'm thinking we should go back via the old Alpha Site, sir. It's gonna be a short stop coming through into Operations just eyeballing where we're supposed to stop." He shrugs. "But the ship controls themselves aren't altered in any way, as long as you know what you're doing flying."

McKay scoffs. Sheppard echoes Lorne's grin back to him.

"I mentioned that we left the ship in the valley," Todd puts in. Chandra startles slightly at the sound of his voice. "But Sheppard desired the pilot's recounting of events."

Sheppard grins at him affectionately, and Chandra, looking a little lost and like he feels like he needs to interrupt, says, "Should we start back, sir?"

Lorne frowns.

"The day is enough gone that I think we should stay the night here in the camp and depart for the Stargate at first light," Sara says. "We will be travelling slowly. I think we will need most of a day to make the journey."

She is completely at ease standing there and speaking surrounded by Wraith and soldiers. The one she calls Gift had called her "queen" and she stands like it. Not like a Wraith queen, but like a woman very aware of the weight of responsibility. In the Earth culture of the Lanteans she would be counted a child, and even on Sateda she is young enough that none would expect her to function as a sole leader, even of a small task group. Everything about this girl is unsettling.

"Camping in the mountains can get chancy," Sheppard is adding. "In addition to the Bola Kai there are enormous wolves running around, and that's just the things that _want_ to kill you. Camping here and having a full day for the trip makes more sense."

"That sounds like a good plan, sir," Lorne says, continuing, "We lost what comms we had when we entered the mountains, and I hate to leave the base team without any contact for that long. I'll head back alone and update them. You can bring everyone else in the morning."

"No," Sheppard denies instantly. "You're not running around the mountains in the dark by yourself."

Lorne begins to protest when Teyla interrupts. "Both of your points are valid," she says smoothly, "but I think you have disregarded the true problem and the resources you have available."

Both men stop and look at her.

"You should send Sheppard," Ronon cuts in. He becomes the focus of eight pairs of eyes; his team, Lorne, Chandra, Sara, Todd, and Larrin who has drifted over, apparently realizing that they aren't going to come to her. Gift looks like he doesn't give a shit, and whoever Kian is he's nowhere to be seen. Ronon adds, "Sheppard knows the mountains better than us."

"I know them better than any of you," Sara argues.

"But it has to be someone that Lorne's team knows," Ronon argues back. "And you're right," he adds to Sheppard, "you shouldn't go alone."

"What, you think _you_ should go with him?" McKay asks drily.

Ronon is spared the need to reply when Teyla returns the conversation to her original point. "Returning to the base team will not fix the issue that we remain in communication blackout from them until we are prepared to leave the mountains," she says with patience. "But Wraith do not have such issues when they communicate."

Ronon smirks at McKay as he finally gets it.

Sheppard also seems to get it, but it's Lorne who gets it a little bit faster. "So, Colonel Sheppard and Todd can go back to the jumper, and we'll start at first light. Between Todd and Gift, we should be able to alert each other if any further issues arise."

Gift glares at Todd but Sara places a hand on his arm. "It is well-thought," she says with a respectful nod to Lorne.

"Alright, it's a plan," Sheppard says, his voice easy and light, like this isn't exactly what he wants from this situation.

Todd regards them all with polite interest that is too perfectly controlled to be anything other than a front, and when Sheppard turns to leave the valley and head into the mountains, Todd follows him as if pulled by a bond more physical than the mental connection that drew them to this planet in the first place.

 

"Since we have some time," Teyla says to Sara, "I would appreciate if you would show me some of the useful plants you've discovered in your time on this world."

"We should get your man ready to be transported," Lorne says to Larrin. "Most of the way is pretty level and I think it would be faster if we can rig a litter instead of him having to walk all of it." He looks at Gift. "Is there a best place to find some straight poles?"

Everyone wanders off, and McKay is looking at Ronon with a look Ronon thinks is supposed to be cunning. "You are aware of what you just facilitated, right?" McKay says.

Ronon growls, "Remind me and I might change my mind."

But McKay maybe knows him too well, because he's not at all threatened. "You're the one who _suggested_ him," he says delightedly.

"You think _I_ wanted to be the one stuck wandering in the dark with a Wraith all night?"

McKay scoffs. "We could have sent Chandra," he observes with flawless logic. He grins in an especially self-satisfied manner, and Ronon can't help but want to smack him for it. As if suspecting the impending violence and being more interested in preventing it than he usually is, McKay says what he's thinking. "Not too long ago you'd have relished having the opportunity to knock off a Wraith when you could blame it on space wolves and have nobody be any the wiser."

Ronon thinks about it. It's not that he doesn't want to kill Wraith, it's just that Todd belongs to Sheppard, and the new one belongs to the girl. "There aren't any Wraith here that nobody would miss," he says. It maybe comes out backwards, but McKay nods thoughtfully and immediately moves on to bitching about enlisting Chandra to help him collect soil samples for scientists who are less important than he is.

Ronon looks back once toward where Sheppard and Todd have vanished into the trees, but then he follows McKay toward the camp.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara meets John's people and they all return to Atlantis.

Sara is fishing in the river with Gift when she notices John walking toward her quickly.

In the days they've been at this camp, John had been set on exploring further into the mountains that surround them. Sara and Gift would accompany him occasionally, but usually he would be gone soon after dawn to not return until darkness fell, despite his still healing body causing him to be often short of breath and huffing in discomfort.

Sara would ask what brought him back so early this day, but before she can John grins and says, "They're here."

With the grin on his face there's no confusion as to his meaning. Sara wades out of the river toward him. "And they brought their ship safely? The jumper?" On the bank she picks up a satchel, where the fish she has caught so far are lying wrapped in broad leaves, and her fishing spear, abandoned in favor of a small net.

"They brought it through the gate okay, but Lorne wasn't excited about flying through mountains. They're coming on foot now, after hiding it in the valley." He moves restlessly. "If we go to meet them, we can shorten the distance, be out of here by tomorrow."

Sara knows her expression is doubtful as she looks up at the sun. "If they are coming from the valley it will be hours before they are here."

"No, they arrived a few hours ago. It just took me a bit to get back here. They'll be here soon."

Sara nods to this. "It still makes more sense to camp here overnight and depart in the morning." She indicates a group of dark clouds hanging near the horizon. "I do not think that storm will pass near to us, but it would be best not to chance running into trouble in the mountains in the night, with three of the moons dark and a fourth close to it."

John inhales deeply. "You're right," he admits. "Sorry, I just got excited." He grins.

Sara can't help but grin back. "It is understandable. Your team are the ones your city sent, yes? And Todd is with them?"

"Yeah," he admits. The word is heavy with anticipation and excitement, but also a slight trepidation. He glances at her. "They're not huge fans of each other so we'll see how that works out."

Sara is somewhat troubled by this, but John hastens to add, "I mean there's the Wraith stuff, but I think it's mostly because Todd can be kind of an ass when he wants to be. And Ronon, you know." He shrugs expansively.

Sara nods, but she is wondering herself about how these newcomers to the planet will understand her relationship with Gift.

When they return to the campsite John starts gutting and skewering the fish and laying them over the coals of the fire and Sara decides, "Since we're going to have guests, I'll see if I can find any late berries to add to our meal."  John nods absently and she takes her now empty satchel back into the trees.

There isn't much to glean this late in the season and she ends up climbing a tree to raid a squeaker's store of hidden treenuts. She looks out through the thin top-branches and watches the way they wave in the wind. Now that it is almost here, she wonders about the wisdom of leaving this world. It has been a sanctuary for her, and for Gift. There are dangers of course, but they found each other here, and she can only believe that they survived because of each other. The future John offers is a complete unknown. She wonders if she has the will to meet it.

Below her, a man steps past the tree she is sitting in.

Sara narrows her eyes and slips silently down to the ground. Her feet alight on the forest floor, and she tugs her short spear loose from where it's tucked across her back. She steps carefully after the man. He is someone she has never seen before but he does not have the facial marks of the Bola Kai tribesmen. He is tall, and there is a rough, wild edge to him. He moves assuredly through the trees, not betraying himself with any stray sound. He stops suddenly; his attention has caught on something, and she can see that he has seen Gift, still fishing in the river.

Her powerful need to protect Gift overrides her caution and Sara steps forward, bringing her spear to bear.

 

She wasn't sure how she expected them to arrive, but to find John's team just appearing in her forest like it had always been a place they would come to is more unsettling than Ronon Dex's grudge against Gift's existence. There have always been people who have hated Gift, and hated her because of Gift, and the fact that John has explained Ronon's history to her is the driving reason she gives him the benefit of a second chance.

 

Ronon leaves, but Gift is still tense, and, when Sara looks where he is looking, she can see a Wraith standing among the trees. He steps out, knowing she has seen him, and smirks at her in an expression that seems familiar. She sees the back of his right hand is covered in marks like John's palm. "You are Todd," she says with confidence.

He bows his head to her. "I am." His attention is focused mostly on Gift, and Gift's on him.

Gift is regarding the other Wraith with a wary anticipation. He has his head bowed, as if waiting for something to strike him. It is not a posture she has seen from him often, and usually when caught in a bad memory, and it disturbs her. "This is Gift," she says, speaking to reclaim the conversation. She moves to rest her hand on Gift's chest.

"And Gift is yours, Sara," Todd replies smoothly. He spreads his left hand to emphasize his disinterest in claiming any of her authority in this situation. "If you recall, I am in your debt."

Sara wants to dismiss any such debt, because she did not act out of a desire for it, but she isn't certain what troubles will come to them out in the greater universe and so she only nods. "Yes," she says, hoping her voice holds conviction.

Todd nods. "You are the Queen Gift has claimed, Sara, and I see that you hold this trust with the weight it deserves. If Atlantis grieves you, you need but ask and my hive will give you shelter."

She narrows her eyes. "Do you anticipate that Atlantis will do so?"

Todd looks at her evaluatively before his eyes shift to Gift. "Atlantis is very new to the idea of coexistence with Wraith," he says slowly.

Sara frowns. "It is a place of wonders, to hear the stories John tells," she says, feeling slightly betrayed by John's optimism.

"It has been many things," Todd allows, "and Sheppard loves it with a passion that influences his tellings but does not make them untrue." His attention is caught by something he sees through the trees behind them and he says, "I have recently realized that my own experiences are perhaps not the best measure by which to judge the city in its current form." His focus returned to them, Todd grins. "I anticipate your arrival there, Sara." He tilts his head to regard Gift. "And the opportunity to understand you better."

 

* * *

 

"The leatherwork on your coat is excellent," Teyla observes as Sara slips the coat on. It's too warm to wear it really, but, as the day is ending and night falling, she will welcome it shortly. It needn't take up room in her satchel, already packed with other items. "Where did you get it?"

"Gift made it," Sara says shortly. She has seen how Teyla watches Gift, and she is not surprised when this information has Teyla immediately looking away and frowning. But she is surprised when Teyla's eyes return to her.

"It is well made," Teyla repeats. "And I imagine he tanned the hide himself as well."

"We learned a lot from watching the Bola Kai," Sara admits. "But Gift has always been good with garments. It was his job on the hive." She glances up, seeking Gift. Gift is across the clearing observing Major Lorne, Ronon Dex, and Larrin as they test the litter they made for Kian. Sara can hear but not see Doctor McKay and Sergeant Chandra somewhere inside the tree line.

"His job?"

Sara shrugs. "On a hive every Wraith has a purpose that they fill, to serve the hive."

"It is... unusual to think that there is a place on a hive for someone whose purpose is creating beautiful clothing." Sara gives her a curious look and Teyla continues with a wry expression, "For a long time my people lived in fear of the Wraith. They came only to cull, and to think of their hives as a place that contains anything but darkness and horror is an exercise that still requires some thought before it will become familiar."

Sara nods. "I can see how that would be," she allows. "My experience has been somewhat the opposite."

Ronon and Larrin are coming toward the fire where she is sitting with Teyla, and Ronon catches some of her words, making an expression of exaggerated disbelief.

Sara scowls at him. She stirs the pot of stew she is watching and says to Teyla, "When the ship that carried me crashed to the ground, there were men everywhere. I did not know them then but they were Bola Kai. They killed people I had grown to know as we journeyed on the ship, and, though I was too young to understand at the time, they did other things to them. The Bola Kai killed my father and my mother before my eyes." She pauses. "Gift saved me from a similar fate."

"As you saved me and my crew," Larrin observes. She throws a sidelong smile at Sara and a challenging look at Teyla.

Ronon folds his arms. "Bola Kai aren't like regular people."

 Sara ignores him. "Given this history, you will understand that I was alarmed when John first came, as I had known for years only humans who hated me for living. But as I came to know him, I understood that he would not hurt me." She cannot resist glaring at Ronon, to make sure he understands her point. But she doesn't want to provoke him to anger so she shifts her eyes to the cookpot. "If you are done with your task, there is supper." The fish went quickly earlier, and Sara's combined most of what food she has left into a hearty stew; she may be short on utensils, but she has enough bowl-like vessels among her supplies to feed all of them.

Larrin waves to Lorne. She must get some response because she sighs in a put-upon manner and juggles three bowls in her hands as she returns to Lorne and Kian.

Ronon helps himself to a bowl. He tastes the thick broth before leaning back and looking at Sara sharply. "This is _wakala_."

He says it accusingly, and Sara narrows her eyes as she shoots back, "It is mostly _cevik_."

Ronon shakes his head and looks down at the bowl in his hand. " _Wakala_ were all over Sateda. I haven't had any since." The sentence ends abruptly, and he doesn't elaborate.

In the silence Sara offers, "I'm sorry."

Ronon looks at her and shakes his head. He returns to eating his stew in silence. Teyla watches him but she doesn't seem concerned as she also takes a bowl.

Gift comes over to Sara and sits at her back, his cheek pressed to her shoulder as he curls against her. Ronon's eyes flicker over him but he doesn't say anything.

Doctor McKay and Sergeant Chandra return from their explorations, to sit around the fire as well, as night begins to fall. Chandra looks like he wants to be alarmed by Gift's proximity but is too tired to do anything other than sit and stare into the bowl he has filled with camellia infusion, brewing in Sara's smaller cookpot, before drinking from it. McKay and Teyla hold up most of the conversation as the darkness deepens.

"There's no citrus in this is there?"

"No, Rodney. It is safe."

"Good, because I'm pretty sure the smell of it is making me hungrier than I actually was."

Sara does ask, "What is 'citrus'?"

"Delicious," Chandra breaks in, roused to offer something to the conversation. "You should try some in your tea here. I bet you'd love it."

"Unless you're allergic to it and it kills you," McKay shoots back.

Chandra waves a hand dismissively. "Details."

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Sara is as eager as John was to get going and is watching the sunrise when Lorne and Ronon join her. Lorne give her an amused look and sets to rousing the rest of the camp. Gift has given her no sign that he has received any communication from Todd in the hours since the other Wraith's and John's departure, so Sara assumes there has been no issue that has needed communicating.

 

Their group makes good time through the mountains. Everyone takes turns in pairs carrying Kian's litter; Sara gave him a larger than normal dose of the bloodflower root and he mostly sleeps through the uncomfortable experience of being jolted along the path.

Teyla and McKay are taking their turn carrying Kian as the group begins to leave the mountains and enter the more level ground of the foothills, when Teyla stops abruptly. She looks vacant for a moment, then seems to come back to herself. "Major Lorne," she calls, "I believe you should move ahead a short way and see if you can make radio contact with the ship."

"What?" McKay says tensely. "What's wrong?"

Lorne looks uncomprehending for a moment, but then he seems to understand. "Sergeant," he calls to Chandra, "let's jog ahead a bit."

"Is something wrong?" Sara asks.

Teyla and McKay set down their burden and Teyla shakes her head- not in denial, but as if to clear it of an unpleasant sensation. "I believe there is some danger awaiting us on the path ahead," she says.

Sara scowls; this does not truly add any information to what has already been said.

Ronon, however, growls. "Did he-"

Teyla shoots him a quelling look. She turns to Sara. "Where is Gift?"

Sara shrugs, not particularly interested in sharing information when she has not received any. Gift has been pacing them beyond the tree line for most of the morning, though at the moment she believes he has ranged ahead, as he is quite familiar with the mountain lowlands and has no desire to be limited to their slow pace.

Ronon is stalking around the group, his eyes sharp on their surroundings. If Gift chose to return in this moment Sara is certain Ronon would try to shoot him.

"So how did _you_ know about this supposed danger?" Larrin drawls.

Teyla levels an unfriendly look at Larrin. "Todd reached out and warned me." She looks at Sara and continues, "He would only do that if he was unable to speak mentally with Gift."

Sara's eyes open in surprise. "You can communicate mentally with Wraith?"

"Yes," Teyla says after a moment's pause.

Ronon tries to break in again with, "He should know better than to-"

"I was well aware of the possibility when I suggested this plan," Teyla cuts him off. "Todd was respectful of my wishes and kept the contact brief."

Ronon meets her eyes then looks away, still angry but quelled. Sara is struck by the notion that Teyla is a queen in the same way that Sara is; she commands and is obeyed, but there are those who would do anything to protect her. Sara wonders if this is common with humans. She hadn't noticed any similar behavior between Larrin and Kian. Is it because Teyla can speak to the Wraith? Sara desperately wants to ask her questions about this, but this is not the time.

After some moments, Lorne and Chandra come loping back down the path. "I was able to make radio contact with the jumper. Colonel Sheppard says they've noticed heavier Bola Kai activity in the past few hours in the trees around the valley area, so they're all holed up in the jumper under the cloak." Lorne glances around. "If we can get to a slightly more open area, he's going to come pick us up."

Teyla looks doubtful. "He believes he can fly the jumper successfully over such a distance despite the adverse effects the planet has on the instruments?"

McKay rolls his eyes. "Of _course_ he does, he's _Sheppard_." He says pointedly to Lorne, "You did remind him that without the DHD we're stuck here, right? So he better not wreck it."

Lorne shrugs, but there's a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. "I don't think anyone understands that better than him, Doctor. Let's move up the trail a bit more, there's a better place a few yards down." Lorne pauses and looks at Sara. "Gift is nearby?"

She nods. "He will find us."

"Good," is Lorne's response, and Sara is pleased that he accepts the truth of her words.

The group continues down the path a short way to where Lorne had noted that the path opened up to a wider area without overhanging trees.

Gift appears suddenly beside Sara. "The Bola Kai are on the path." He glares at Teyla as if this is her fault. She glares her refusal of _that_ right back at him.

"We know," Lorne says. "We're waiting for the others here. Colonel Sheppard is coming to us with the jumper."

Gift bares his teeth in a silent snarl, his gaze fixated back down the path. Sara looks in the same direction as Gift, but she sees nothing.

The wind suddenly turns and comes from another direction, and Gift's head snaps around. His snarl becomes full voiced and he shoves Sara so hard that she collides with Doctor McKay, the person standing closest to her, and both of them fall to the ground.

"Hey!" Doctor McKay protests, but Sara heard the sharp, wet sound of a weapon striking flesh, and Lorne quickly cuts through all else with the alert cry of, "Bola Kai!"

Sara glances up, but she can see little from where she lies. Lorne and Chandra have taken a position in between her and what she assumes is the threat and the weapons in their hands roar with sound, scattering the branches and tearing the leaves of the trees on the far side of the path. They are joined by Ronon, but Sara finds her attention drawn to the ground near to where she lies. A spear is fixed in the dirt less than a handspan from herself and Doctor McKay, and there is another one a few feet beyond, where she had been originally standing. She sees McKay seeing this; he yells and reaches for her as Sara pulls away from him, pushing herself to her feet and scanning for Gift. Beyond where Lorne and Chandra stand Teyla is crouched, her attention given to something else; as Sara gets closer, she sees that it is Gift. He is sprawled on the ground, black blood pooling under his body where a long spear has pierced the flesh of his leg, and he snarls away Teyla's attempts to assist him. He begins to drag himself toward Sara and she goes to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him back behind the shield that the Lanteans are creating. Teyla raises her own loud weapon and joins Lorne and Chandra in firing on their assailants. Sara can see two of the Bola Kai fallen, dead, and others retreating with various levels of success.

Gift snarls and rips the spear from his leg. The wound bleeds freely, and Gift looks after the departing Bola Kai with unconcealed hunger that fades quickly to weariness as the blood flows from him.

Sara bites her lip to refrain from chastising him in her fear and instead strokes his hair. Gift turns to her and buries his face in her neck. "My queen," she hears him murmur, but she is distracted by Lorne waving to her.

"The jumper," he shouts again and points.

Sara turns and... it looks like there is a hole in the air, and a man is standing in this absence waving to Lorne. The area around the hole flickers and suddenly the hole in the air is the rear hatch of a ship. The man shouts to them. Larrin and Chandra have picked up Kian's litter and Ronon is covering them as they run toward the ship; Teyla is with Doctor McKay and they are also running. She and Lorne, and Gift, are the last ones.

"Gift," she says urgently, pulling at him.

He snarls as he pushes himself to his feet.

Lorne steps closer warily. He holds out his hand as if offering it, but Gift snarls at him and leans on Sara. She pulls his weight over her shoulder and runs for the ship. She senses more than knows that Lorne is behind her, covering her as Ronon had done for Larrin and Chandra. Gift is not a light burden, but Sara doesn't think about it and only knows that she is not leaving without him.

She pulls Gift into the ship and is immediate confronted with the small size of it.

"Lay him here," Teyla directs her, and she reaches for Gift's shoulder and pulls him along so that he is laying full length down the center of the ship's floor.

Gift's eyes are closed and he doesn't protest Teyla's touch, or when a man Sara doesn't recognize kneels over him, pulling a length of material from a pack and wrapping it tightly around Gift's upper leg. "Shit that's a lot of blood," the man says. He probes the wound. "This is torn all the way down to the bone, practically took his whole leg off. Is that why it's not healing?"

Sara is not certain if he is speaking to her; she is kneeling by Gift's head, her hands on his face. Gift's eyes are still closed. She has never seen him so weak, and she is suddenly overwhelmingly frightened by the changes in her world and she opens her mouth to demand that they let her and Gift leave the ship and return to the planet, because everything was fine before this.

"Move aside," a gruff voice behind her says and, crouched beside Sara in the narrow space, Chandra rises and moves away. Sara feels the flicker of movement as someone in a long coat moves past her, and she looks up just as Todd crouches down in the space that Chandra vacated. He looks down at Gift, who has opened his eyes and bares his teeth in refusal. Todd looks at Sara and raises his right hand. "By your leave I will heal your Wraith," he says.

Sara doesn't know if there is some formal answer she is supposed to give, and she can only nod vigorously. That seems to be enough. Todd's hand comes to rest on Gift's chest, and Gift hisses as Todd's fingers spread and press down. Sara has never seen a Wraith share the Gift of Life, and she watches rapt as Gift arches into the contact, his hiss of anger turning into a groan of pained relief as he sags back against the floor. Sara looks at his leg. It's hard to see from where she is, and still smeared with blood, but the man she doesn't know probes the leg again and says, impressed, "Wound is closed." He removes the tourniquet he'd wrapped above the wounded area.

The man is sitting practically on top of Gift, and Gift suddenly writhes, striking out at the man, and at Todd crouched beside him. Gift's left hand strikes the man in the chest, sending him flying backward, into Ronon who catches and steadies him.

"We're headed through the gate," Sara hears John's voice say, and she'd barely registered that the ship was moving. "Five, four, three..." Todd looks up, and Gift strikes at him again, his hand snaring in Todd's coat and pulling him down instead of pushing him away as Todd snarls in anger.

"Gift," Sara calls, holding his face more tightly between her hands and pulling him toward her so that his head is resting in her lap. His eyes focus on her, looking up at her wildly. "You are well now, and you are safe." She shifts one hand to the knife she has strapped at her thigh. "You are safe, Gift, I swear it."

Gift stills under her touch. He turns toward her leg until half his face is hidden against her thigh. He closes his eyes, but he is still breathing fast.

"Give him some space," Sara hears the man she doesn't know say. She glances up to see he is talking to another man she doesn't know. They must be Lorne's soldiers that had remained at the ship while the others sought John in her valley camp.

"Taking us up into the jumper bay since I figure we could use the space," John is saying. "We need medical? The hell's going on back there?"

Beside Gift, Todd tries to stand but falters and leans against the wall looking momentarily ashen before he continues rising to his feet.

"Thank you," Sara says softly. She's not sure if he hears her, but Sara will not forget that he gave of himself to help Gift.

The ship seems to settle against the ground. Sara looks up. In front of her, standing at the rear of the vessel, are Ronon and the two men she doesn't know. Lying across the bench on the opposite side of the vessel is Kian. Sara can see Larrin from the corner of her eye behind her, near Kian's head; McKay, Teyla, Lorne, and Chandra, must also be behind her with John.

The door at the rear of the ship opens, revealing more people standing there.

Gift rolls into a crouch, getting his feet under him. He glares at the humans that surround him, then stands and looks at Todd. They look at each other for what feels like a long time.

"There a problem here?" John says, coming up behind Sara. His voice is deceptively soft.

"No," Todd says.

Gift's lip curls, but he echoes, "No." He looks at Sara, glares Larrin out of the corner where she is standing, and wrapping an arm around Sara, drags her into the corner with him where he presses his back to the wall.

"Okay," Lorne says. "Everybody else out, I guess."

Sara strokes her hand over Gift's arm. She watches Lorne and Larrin carry Kian out to where medical people are waiting to gather around him. Ronon and the other two men also exit the ship, and John moves up to stand next to Todd. Teyla is standing in the entrance to the pilot's section of the ship, and beyond her Doctor McKay is speaking to a scratchy, disembodied voice about transferring data.

"Teyla," Sara says softly, and Teyla's attention turns to her without delay. "The man who helped Gift- what is he called?"

Teyla smiles softly. "That is Captain Reed. He is a member of Major Lorne's team."

"My thanks," Sara replies, and Teyla bows her head.

"I am glad that Gift is healed," Teyla says to Sara. She looks at Gift, as if she would address the sentiment to him directly but is unsure as to whether he would wish this.

Sara nods, but her response is forestalled when her attention is pulled to the outside of the ship.

A man is greeting John with a broad smile and clasping his hand. "Glad to have you back, Colonel Sheppard."

"Glad to _be_ back, Mister Woolsey," John replies with a grin. He looks back into the jumper and gestures to Teyla before stepping closer to the other man and speaking softly.

"Rodney," Teyla calls.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm almost... Okay, I'm done. What?"

"Let us leave the jumper," Teyla says patiently. She moves to allow Chandra to slip past her and then pulls McKay toward the rear entrance.

McKay pauses beside Gift and looks uncomfortable. "Look, it was probably an accident, but you saved me from getting cut up by that painful looking serrated spear thing, so... thanks."

Gift replies by baring his teeth in a silent snarl.

Sara rolls her eyes. "Gift is very pleased to have been able to help," she says as she closes her hand tightly on Gift's arm.

McKay looks amused. "Welcome to Atlantis," he says, and Sara gets the feeling that the words are more sincere than just a standard greeting. Gift must agree because he lowers his lips back over his teeth.

Once everyone is gone, Sara notices that the man who is standing and talking to John and Todd is looking at her. John walks into the jumper. "Sara, Gift." He gestures to the man. "This is Mister Woolsey. He's in charge of Atlantis."

Sara is certain her surprise is easily visible on her face; she had thought that John was the leader of the city he had spoken of so lovingly. She regards this Mister Woolsey. His head has no hair on the top of it and he wears round lenses before his eyes that she has seen some of the other people are also wearing. He has a kind expression on his face. "Thank you for allowing us to enter your city," she says and bows her head to him, unable to move much in Gift's hold.

"We are pleased to have you here, Sara, and welcome both you and Gift to Atlantis." He smiles.

Sara returns the smile, pleased to hear Gift acknowledged.

"There are some initial checks we require every person who comes to Atlantis to go through, such as a medical screen," Mister Woolsey is saying. "I hope you will allow a nurse to examine you to ensure your good health."

Sara frowns. "What about Gift?"

Mister Woolsey turns toward Todd as he says, "Todd will ensure that Gift is not at loose ends while you are occupied."

Sara strokes Gift's arm that is wrapped around her. "I am eager to learn more about your city, Mister Woolsey, but also hope that you understand that I do not have any desire to be separated from Gift."

Mister Woolsey's eyebrows rise up his forehead, but he smiles a smile that suggests he understands that her words are sincere. "And I have no desire to separate you. I only offer the observation that some activities are easier to undertake without company." He pauses, as if debating whether to speak honestly. "Also, we have had a slight issue recently with Wraith who are guests of this city not understanding the rules which govern us here, and I would encourage that Gift spend some time with Todd in order to be made aware of those rules." He says this in a way that indicates that it is not actually a suggestion.

"At his queen's discretion," Todd adds in smoothly. He looks at Sara, and she is comforted when she recalls his debt to her. He will not be party to an attempt to permanently separate her from Gift.

Gift's face is pressed to Sara's neck, but he sighs and slowly releases his arm from around her. Sara breathes in slowly. "Very well. I will undergo your medical screen, and Gift will go with Todd to learn what things will be expected of him in Atlantis."

Mister Woolsey smiles. "Thank you for your understanding," he says to Sara.

"And I'll head with you toward medical," John puts in. He smiles at her companionably. "We can check in on Larrin and Kian when we're there."

Sara is not concerned with Larrin and Kian; Kian's wound is not great enough that it is likely to threaten his life at this stage, and Larrin is quite capable of taking care of herself and her crewmate. But she appreciates John's awareness that coming to this new place is overwhelming for her and that familiar faces can be a comfort. "Very well," she says again.

She steps forward. She follows John out of the jumper and into the place where it rests- the city of his stories. She doesn't look back, but she can always feel Gift with her... or so she tells herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Woolsey mentions that they're recently had issues with Wraith, that takes place in the side story which is called "Intonsus."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara isn't sure what to think of Atlantis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Some of Gift's mental trauma gets addressed in this chapter. I'm not a mental health professional, and they're aliens, so... I dunno, but heads up.

Sara is used to finding her way by the sun, but now she can't see it. The corridors close in around her as she walks and the windows that offer glimpses of the ocean outside seem like harsh reminders of an openness she can no longer have.

 

The corridors are filled with people. So many people… They stand around speaking to each other, or move forward intent on a goal, or call greetings to John as the two of them pass by.

Once they are in the medical area, Sara is fascinated by the way the many people here move with such purpose. The people who had brought Kian had arrived before Sara and John, and Sara sees Larrin speaking with another woman as they regard some sort of machine. This area is filled with an undercurrent of energy, but Sara finds it calming rather than anxious. The purposefulness reminds her of her mother, in a way that is both a vague memory and a surety.

Sara parts ways with John and they are herded to separate areas where a stern looking woman who says her name is Lydia takes charge of Sara.

Sara is given the opportunity to take a shower. She has stood in the rain, and she has washed in rivers, and she perhaps remembers a porcelain basin filled with warm water and her mother wielding a rough sponge, but they were all lesser experiences to this. She rubs the soap into her skin, and a different soap for her hair, and it is a strange yet pleasing sensation to be clean in a way she can't ever remember being. Her wet hair pulls her curls into heavy waves that fall to her hips; she hadn't realized it was quite so long.

Lydia is insistently thorough with the examination, and asks many questions, but Sara does learn important information from her about how to handle hygiene issues that the people of the city take for granted, such as the nature of Feminine products and the purpose and function of a toilet, so while she isn't sure she understands the words that Lydia says about introducing communicable diseases to the city's population she does understand the requirement that this is a ritual that all who come to this place must undergo. Sara is perhaps still awed by the shower and so is forgiving. And Lydia braids her hair into a complicated plait that seems like it might hold the wayward strands for more than a breath, which is a wonder in itself.

 

She is released from the medical examination room after a brief confrontation about whether or not she is allowed to carry her knife; Sara is somewhat flushed to have won this confrontation but finds herself lost when she steps into the hall and Gift is not present. She does not know where to find him.

But there is a woman waiting for her. The woman is taller than Sara but shorter than Gift and has hair that is a soft brown. Her eyes are a lighter brown, and she has a friendly expression on her face.

"Hello," the woman says with a smile. "My name is Amelia. I was wondering if you would like for me to show you around?"

Sara regards the woman. What she wants is to find Gift.

Amelia narrows her eyes assessingly though her smile doesn't change. "I can show you where to get ice cream if you want, or your room so you can rest, or anything else. Name it."

And, so asked, Sara can only respond, "Gift."

"Your Wraith friend," Amelia confirms, and says, "Come with me and I will take you to where he is."

Sara is immediately placated that winning this second confrontation was also easy, and she follows Amelia readily. As they step out into the hallway filled with people, Amelia walks beside her instead of in front so that they can talk more easily.

Sara has to remark upon the only thing more unnerving that seeing more people in one place than she has seen in an entire planet in the past five years. "There are no Wraith here," she observes, unable to hide her disappointment. "John told me there were Wraith in his city."

Amelia nods easily. "Colonel Sheppard has been trying to encourage more Wraith to be able to come here," she says, "but right now there are not very many and they are limited to certain parts of the city unless they have a military escort. We're going to that section now."

Sara looks at her. "You would take me there?"

"It's where Gift is," Amelia replies with a smile that seems to ask why Sara is so surprised by this answer. "I mean, part of it anyway. It's a good chunk of rooms, and it's not like they're all full," Amelia tells her. "Anyway, it's my job to help you learn anything you want to about the city."

"Anything?" Sara asks.

Amelia grins. "Within reason, I suppose," she allows. And almost as if in distraction, she offers, "Honestly, even if you're not interested now, I'm going to have to show you the ice cream machine later, because it's my favorite."

Her words are light, and Sara thinks this might be a lie; Sara is out of practice from being able to tell. "The place I want to see after Gift and after the Wraith is the one that is your favorite," she says resolutely.

Amelia looks surprised, and pleased. "It's a deal." She smiles again, more fully. "What do you think of Atlantis so far?" she asks.

"It is very different," is all Sara can say. While features of it are astonishing, Sara does not feel certain that she has yet seen the beloved city of John's stories, and she understands Todd's words better- that the city is many things depending on who is speaking of it.

"It's unlike anything in two galaxies," Amelia agrees.

Sara frowns. "What is a 'galaxy'?"

Amelia falters for a moment, then begins to explain the relationships of clusters of stars such that Sara thankfully has no attention left to spare for the city around her.

 

Amelia leads Sara past a pair of men holding the loud weapons that Lorne's team had carried, and which Sara realizes that other people in the city have not been carrying.

"This is the boundary of the area where the Wraith are allowed," Amelia explains when she sees Sara noticing.

"And you guard it with weapons, but not the other areas of your city?"

"We guard several areas with weapons," Amelia replies easily. "Up until not too long ago, Atlantis and the Wraith have been at war. It is only _very_ recently that Colonel Caldwell allows Wraith in the city at all without a full military escort at all times. Under the new system the Wraith have free access to this area of the South East Pier for the work they do with the gene therapy project, and do not have guards with them constantly. In fact, under the policy even the guards who are present when the human scientists are interacting with the Wraith are armed with stunners instead of guns." Her face softens as she looks at Sara. "I know a lot of that probably doesn't make sense to you, but if you had been here last week you'd see how things have changed, and if you stay until next week I think they will change more, for the better."

Sara nods slowly. "I hope to see the city change for the better," she says softly. She wants to see John's city, the way he sees it.

Amelia is leading them to a door that is made of colored panels that are almost translucent. It opens to admit them and almost immediately on the other side Sara sees John.

Sara smiles; after the halls of strangers it is nice to recognize a face.

John looks up sharply at their arrival but grins at her lazily. "Hey, was just wondering if you were ever going to show up." He gestures them into the room.

The room is large and is filled with sunlight, and Sara realizes that it isn't a "room" as such but a terrace, open to the ocean on one side. She raises her face to the salt air for a moment, then turns back to the room. There are potted plants and benches scattered around the space. Gift is seated tensely on one of the benches; standing not far from him is Todd. Sara is worried at Gift's tense posture, but when they notice her Gift stands immediately and comes to her.

"My queen." Gift falls to his knees before her and presses his face to her stomach.

Sara puts her arms around him. "Gift," she murmurs reassuringly, but she is looking at Todd- she can tell by his face that he is thinking something that displeases him and she wants to know what it is. She strokes Gift's hair for a moment, then steps back, urging him to his feet. "What has happened?" she says firmly.

Gift bares his teeth and glares at Todd. Todd narrows his eyes at Gift and Gift immediately looks away, standing silent beside Sara. Alarmed, she touches his arm.

"We have been having a... discussion," Todd says. "But it is a discussion that should involve you, Sara."

John makes a gesture to Amelia and they drift over to the railing and stand at some distance, talking and looking down at the ocean.

"What should we discuss?" Sara says. She tries to sound firm, but it comes out tentative.

Todd sighs and gestures her to two of the benches that sit facing each other. She sits on one and he sits on the other. Gift sits on the floor and puts his head in her lap, something he does when he is unhappy. She pets the side of his face with her fingers and uses this as an excuse to not look up.

"Wraith are, by nature, communal creatures," Todd begins. "We share physical space, but even more so, we share mental connections. It is... not a _requirement_ to establish a hive connection, but, even when we do not belong to a hive, we can still feel the presence of other Wraith." He pauses. "Perhaps it is like the connection that you and Gift have established. You are aware that he is always near." Sara nods. "In a similar way, Wraith can reach out and know that other Wraith are there. Can touch their minds." He pauses again. "It is not a perfect analogy. Sheppard said to tell you that it was like sunlight. Though you cannot take hold of it, it is a thing that you can feel, and feel the lack of. It is necessary for life to be whole."

"I understand," Sara says. "And I understand that you mean Gift cannot stay with me because I cannot offer him this."

Gift's fingers dig into the bench on either side of her, gouging the material, and Todd quickly denies, "That is not what I mean at all." He looks at Gift then at her. "Because of what happened when he lost his hive, Gift is... he is like a creature that refuses sunlight." Sara's fingers tighten in Gift's hair. "He reaches for you as the only source of connection and most of the time this is enough to sustain him."

"He is broken," Sara murmurs.

"Somewhat," Todd says. "He has developed an ability to cope with this loss that I would not even have thought was possible, but he will only heal when he accepts the hivesense again. When we connected and he showed me the star positions so that I could find you, I was able to see some of what happened to him to cause him to withdraw and I understand why he would do so. But he withdrew from me after that connection and will not reach out again."

"Can I help him?"

"Yes," Todd assures her. "Understand, Sara, I do not mean to belittle your own bond in any way, but no _one_ creature can fill the network of mental bonds that a Wraith should maintain. He needs to accept the touch of hivesense."

"He will... he will not need me anymore?"

"He will always need you." Todd leans forward, his gaze intent. "He loves you, Sara. Healing him will not change that, as it is not a product of his damage. You have kept him safe in his time of need and that is not a bond that I have any desire to break."

Sara takes a deep breath. "What must I do?"

"He has determined that you are his queen. He did this, rather than accept you as a brother in the same hivesense, because even in his pain a part of him understood that he needed someone outside of himself to see to his needs. Tell him that you would admit me to your hive, and he will need to open his mind to accept this."

Sara hesitates. "I have promised Gift that I would never force him to accept another queen. I... Is this not a thing that is similar?" She narrows her eyes at Todd. "You are a commander of hives."

Todd grins at her, and despite his concern for Gift he seems pleased by her. "There are different levels of hivesense. I wish only to stimulate him to accept the outer sense, the awareness of hivepresense. He is not bound to any relationship within the hive unless he wishes it, and none will demand anything of him." His expression sobers. "What occurred with his former hive is a rare sorrow, and I swear that it will not happen again with the hive here." He pauses, but adds, "Sara, one reason Gift chose you as his queen is that a Wraith queen has a powerful mental presence and her power can overwhelm the will of individual Wraith. You are not Wraith, so you cannot overwhelm him in this way. You cannot force him to obey you. Do you understand? If he complies it is because he wishes to for love of you. If you order it of him, it is only that his mind is broken enough to require this permission to seek a thing he needs."

Sara looks down at Gift. He is tense, unable to relax in her lap. She recognizes the look on his face; over the years, he has had occasional bouts of severe agitation. His anger, without seeming cause and never directed at her, had scared her at these times, making her in turn to be demanding and harsh with him. She had questioned him extensively as to what bothered him, demanding answers he didn't want to give. But perhaps... he had _needed_ to give them to her. Afterward he had always seemed especially intend on appeasing her every worry, though she'd attributed that to him trying to comfort her own dismay at having been mean to him. "Gift," she asks softly.

"My queen," he whispers eagerly.

"Gift, open yourself to this Wraith, admit him to our hive and feel the sense of his hive." Her fingers tighten. "Do not withdraw from the sense of hive."

Gift moans brokenly and buries his face against her thighs. She looks at Todd, wondering if this is everything she needed to do.

Todd nods to her, but soon turns his attention to Gift. His eyes close and he leans his head back slightly. After a moment, he begins to hum, low in his throat.

Sara strokes Gift's hair as he shivers against her.

She realizes that the humming is coming from all around her and she looks up. There are two other Wraith walking toward her. Sara can't help it; she tenses, leaning over Gift protectively and reaching for her knife. John, having drifted back over from the rail by the ocean, sits next to her and places a calming hand on hers. "This is Cináed and Franklin, from Todd's hive," he murmurs nodding to the other Wraith. "They're just welcoming Gift."

One of the new Wraith sits on the floor on Sara's other side and lays his head on the bench, looking at Gift sorrowfully. The other one comes to stand behind Todd, and their humming takes on a mournful tone. Gift inhales shakily, and he joins them. He leans back slightly, raises his head to look at Sara as he opens his throat and he gives voice to his sorrow and loneliness. It vibrates through him, and the other Wraith's voices change from a hum to low throat tones as they modulate around him.

It's as if their voices are pulling the pain from Gift as she would lance a wound, and she can see his shoulders relax as if a weight is lifted from them. He opens his eyes and looks at her, and she only realizes she is crying when he raises his left hand to cup her cheek. Sara wraps her arms around him. _I am so happy for you Gift, that you do not have to carry this alone anymore_.

"I was not alone," he murmurs against her ear. "I had you." He presses his face into the curve of her neck.

Sara looks to Todd to confirm.

He is looking at John, and his expression is soft with affection, but he must sense her question for he turns back to her. "This is the first and most important step in Gift's healing," Todd says to her, "for Wraith need the mental bonds that they form with other Wraith. The only other step is time. In time, his mind will heal as the bonds he will build will overwrite the ones that have been broken. When he is ready, we will welcome Gift to participate in activities that build the hivesense. Or should he desire he may join another hive or remain on Atlantis and be hive only with those Wraith who journey to the city."

"I will be hive with Sara," Gift murmurs stubbornly, adding, "and with other Wraith who are in the city."

Todd grins like he understands Gift's stubbornness and isn't troubled by it, so Sara must believe that it will not negatively impact Gift's healing. "What are activities that build hivesense?" she asks, wanting to be informed so that she can perhaps push Gift toward these things when needed, if he gets into another mood where he will not seek them or tell her what he wants.

Gift tenses and bares his teeth in a silent snarl, which Cináed and Franklin echo with a hiss of revulsion.

"Spending time in each other's company," Todd says over the others, unperturbed by their reaction. "Especially resting or sleeping near each other."

Sara relaxes. "That is already what Gift and I do," she says under her breath, touching Gift's shoulder and frowning at Gift's and the other's reactions.

"There are other things, too," John murmurs beside her. "But they're not relevant at the moment."

Sara feels like she can almost guess what some of them might be but agrees that it's not relevant. "Thank you," she says to Todd.

He stands and bows his head to her. "As I say to you for the care you gave to one whom I love."

Sara glances at John who is flushed and looking at the floor.

The Wraith standing behind Todd looks exasperated though fond; she is not sure if he is Cináed or Franklin.

John clears his throat. "Well, if you're all set here," he begins leadingly. Todd smirks at him.

"I would like to see where there are more Wraith," Sara says hesitantly.

"Right," Amelia says, and Sara looks over to find her seated on one of the benches a slight distance away. She smiles at Sara, and comes over, as if she hadn't wanted to intrude earlier but is eager to help Sara find what she wants. "Colonel Sheppard was just telling me that the Nest is about to gather to meet the Teller from Todd's hive. I can show you to where they are."

Sara looks at Gift. His eyes regard her evenly, and she might be imagining it but they look more bright, more vibrantly yellow-orange. "Alright," Sara says, and Gift bows his head to her, rising from where he had knelt before her to stand at her shoulder when she also rises.

The Wraith who had laid his head on the bench beside her rises with them. "I will go with you."

 

Amelia leads them down a hallway and Sara turns to look at the Wraith solemnly. "How are you called?"

His eyes are sharp on her, and he smiles a thin smile. "I am Third Scientist of the Commander's secondary hive, is the closest approximation in human speech. I have been called 'Franklin' in the human manner, after a human scientist."

Sara thinks about this a moment before asking him, "Do you wish to be called by a human word?" Behind her, Gift grumbles. Sara rolls her eyes. "I am not talking to you, Gift."

Franklin narrows his eyes in humor. "It is not something I had anticipated when I first arrived here, though I am not displeased by it." He frowns. "It is a word that has meaning to my co-scientists that it does not hold for me, but I... bear it like a marking, perhaps. A thing bestowed upon me in honor of my work and my presence in this time and place."

Sara finds her thoughts overtaken with questions about markings. Gift does not bear any; she hadn't thought to think about it previously. She wonders if she can ask him why or if it will shame him, and if perhaps she should give him some time before she pushes at places that might still be wounded.

As they move down the hall they step around a corner and Sara sees two Wraith standing on one side of the hallway, their heads bent to each other. She is pleased to see more Wraith, but she has seen enough that in this moment she is less excited by just the sight than she thought she would be. The Wraith look up as the group approaches, their heads leaning back in assessment. They move almost as mirror to each other, and the strong similarity of their features and choice of fashion makes her think they are the "nest" that Amelia had mentioned.

But with the barest of greetings Amelia keeps walking past the pair, intent on a different goal.

Sara stops and regards the two Wraith. They stare back at her, lips curling back from teeth, but Sara has lived with Gift long enough to not be bothered in the slightest by this lackluster greeting. "What are you called?" she asks them.

The pair looks at each other, then at Sara. "I am called Castor," one says. He has a marking under his right eye that looks like a series of curved lines pressed close together. "And this is my brother, who is called Pollux." He rests his left hand on his brother's shoulder. Pollux has the same marking in mirror to Castor's on his left cheek. They both have the hair at their temples braided back, and, filled with the newness of everything, Sara wants to ask if this means something as well.

They do not ask, but Sara says, "I am Sara." She gathers whatever confidence Gift's presence gives her and asks, "What is the meaning of your marking?"

Castor's lips pull back in full to bare his teeth, but Pollux seems interested in her question.

"I do not know how to say it in a way that humans understand, "Pollux says. "It says that thoughts come from the mind, which is separate from the hive, but that without hive we are lost."

"We are of the hive, but we need not subsume ourselves to it," Castor explains further, almost grudgingly. He looks as his brother. "It is a reminder, to not betray ourselves."

"My thanks, for your words," Sara says.

"Who are you, human, to ask such a thing?" Castor asks shortly.

Gift bares his own teeth in turn, hissing. Sara rests a hand on his arm. "I am Sara," she says again. "And I am hive to Gift."

Castor and Pollux look at each other and then at Gift. "We were just wondering if this was possible!" Pollux exclaims. He regards Sara sharply. "Are you Wraithkin?"

Sara frowns. "I don't know what that means," she admits. She glances over at Amelia, who noticed that they had stopped and has returned for them.

"Some humans have some Wraith DNA," Amelia explains briefly. "It didn't show up in your medical scans."

"Oh." Sara is uncountably disappointed.

"But you are still hive," Castor observes. He locks eyes with Gift, and Sara thinks they are exchanging words in their minds. This seems borne out when Pollux says, "That is what _I_ said," and Castor gives his brother an exasperated look.

"Thank you again," Sara says, "but we must be going on. Amelia is showing us the Nest." She inclines her head to the brothers Castor and Pollux.

They bow back to her. "Have fun with the little Wraithlings," Castor says with a grin.

Franklin scoffs in amusement. "You yourself are barely old enough to feed."

"We were never _that_ young," Castor insists.

Pollux asides to Sara, "The Teller will be worth your time even if Daisy never stops talking."

Sara is even more eager to reach their destination.

 

At the end of the hall is a large, round room, and it is filled with Wraith.

Perhaps filled is too large of a term, but there are more Wraith in this room than she has seen in all of her life put together so far- which is still not a great accomplishment. She calms her excitement and counts twelve. Twelve Wraith, plus Gift and Franklin- and elsewhere Todd and Cináed and Castor and Pollux. So many Wraith; enough, perhaps, to be a hive for Gift. She can see that some of them are much younger, and those ones see her first.

One of the younger Wraith approaches where they stand. He is almost the same height as Sara, and she doesn't know how she can tell but she knows he is very young. "Welcome." He inclines his head and spreads his hands, and something about his hand is strange but he moves too quickly for her to get a good look.

Amelia smiles. "Hello, Taibshe. This is Sara, and Gift," she introduces them. "This is Taibshe. He is one of the seven Wraithlings who make up the Nest."

Sara nods, but before she can ask questions, they are surrounded by other Wraith.

Amelia tries to keep up but is clearly flustered and amused by it. "This is Tiburon, and this is Daisy- okay no that's Euryth, guys, you changed your hair. _This_ is Daisy," the infamous Daisy grins wildly and Sara thinks she could never mistake him for another. "Here we have Norgay and Amundsen, they're here to be part of the trial. And this is Comhar." She pauses after this introduction and inclines her head.

Sara can see that Comhar is a higher-ranking Wraith and he appears more mature than some of the other. She inclines her head to him. "Greetings."

He bows his head to her. "And greetings to you, Sara. And to our brother, Gift." His eyes rest on Gift for a long time.

Sara steals a look back at Gift. His lip is curled, but he appears to be conversing with Comhar mentally, which is good.

They finally look apart from each other and Comhar takes over the introductions from Amelia. "You have already met my fellow scientist Franklin. This is Hillary who is here to be part of the trial, and here is the remainder of the nest, Blue Sky, Ilium, and this is Alejandro." Comhar bows his head to another Wraith. "And, most importantly, here is the Teller, who has accepted the name of Nestor."

The Teller appears to be an older Wraith as well. He has a marking of five overlapping circles at his right temple and his hair is very long, reaching past his waist; it is braided into five loose braids that hang down his back. He inclines his head in recognition of Comhar's greeting and spreads his hands to invite the others to come to him. The Nest does so, sitting on a collection of boxes arranged in a ring. The other Wraith follow, and Sara recognizes Castor and Pollux from the hallway who have arrived as well. Amelia sits somewhere behind the ring, but Sara allows Gift's gentle pressure on her arm to pull her into the ring. She sits sharing a box with him, curled into his left side.

When all the Wraith sit down, she counts them again. Sixteen Wraith. She is suddenly pleased more than words can tell that she is able to see Gift here, in this place, allowing other Wraith to be near to him. He raises his right hand in warning at one who tries to sit too close, but he is sharing mental space with them and he seems genuinely excited about the Teller.

They are _all_ excited about the Teller, such that only a few give Sara more than a glance. She had understood from Amelia's words that the Teller was here to serve the younger Wraith in some way, but the older ones seem to eagerly anticipate what is coming as well.

The Teller looks around the circle, his eyes coming to rest on Sara. Beside her, Gift snarls protectively, and Sara rests a hand on his arm.

"This is the way that Wraith share important memories with those who are new-come to the hive," the Teller says, ignoring Gift. He raises his right hand to his forehead, brushing his fingers forward from the mark at his temple. "I am the keeper of memories, and it is my duty to share them with those who seek them."

Sara feels he is talking to her, though there is another woman sitting with Amelia outside the circle, and a couple other humans farther back in the room. Sara nods, understanding what he is saying; she will not be able to participate in sharing the story, as she doesn't have the mental connection that the Wraith do.

Nestor nods at her acknowledgement. "But Gift thinks you will enjoy the circle," he finishes with. Sara wonders what he means by this, but she is not left wondering long.

Nestor closes his eyes and begins humming, the sound growing louder and then immediately descending into a throat tone. Across the circle from him, Comhar replies, a deeper note echoing from his throat.

Gift is the next one to join them, his note sliding in between the other two perfectly. The three of them change notes around each other a couple times before some of the others join in. Franklin is one of them, and the outspoken Daisy, and Castor and Pollux. The rest join in on the next note, and between them all there is a low humming energy. Sara shivers in joy.

She can see the exact moment that the Teller begins the memory, because the younger Wraith falter in their note. She wonders if this is their first time sharing in this tradition, or if this is just an especially affecting memory. Gift's fingers tighten against the seat though his voice continues to lead the interweaving of the sound that provides the background and rhythm to Nestor's Telling. The Wraith all have their eyes closed, seeing things that have long passed.

Sara is sad that she cannot share this, but their voices all around her fill her with such a sense of peace that she has a hard time being sad at all.

The memory continues for several moments that feel both eternal and too brief before Nestor ceases his note abruptly, and the others let it carry for a beat longer before quieting as well. They lean back and sit in silence while the memory settles in their thoughts. Gift turns to her and presses his face against her hair. She can feel him smiling.

Sara eases up from her seat until she is standing in the circle. The Wraith look at her, but she waits until she catches Nestor's eye and bows to him. "Thank you, Teller, for allowing me to participate in the circle."

He returns her bow solemnly.

Gift takes her hand, and Sara steps out of the circle. Gift's head rests on her shoulder for a moment, and when Amelia approaches Sara asks, "I wonder, could you show us to where we will be sleeping?"

Amelia nods. "Of course. This way." She leads the way down a corridor. "You have quarters in this section. There are other vacant quarters in the city, and elsewhere in the pier even, but we thought you'd want to stay with Gift." Sara is tired or she would address this possibility with the horror that being separated from Gift should incur, but she can only nod. "Colonel Sheppard thought that something kind of close to the others while also being a bit separate would suit you best." She waves a hand to open a door halfway down the corridor. "There's no one else down this hall at the moment, so you can choose other quarters if these aren't to your liking. All of them are stocked with basics, but we added some more perishable items to this one with you in mind."

Sara peers into the room, and then steps inside.

The room feels large, but she is comparing it to the cave, or to one of her shelters, and the difference is mostly in the height and evenness of the ceiling. There is a large square with cloth laid over it, and a distance part of her mind recognizes it as a bed. She walks over and rests a hand on it and is seized with an upswelling of memories she had thought long dead. She can almost hear the light sound of her mother humming absently as she hangs laundry, and she wonders if it's some inverted echo of the performance she just heard.

Sara stands for several moments without speaking, and Amelia moves to leave, saying, "I'll see you later."

Sara nods. Her throat is too choked for words, and Amelia leaves.

Gift comes to her, wrapping her in his arms, and Sara places her hand over his arm around her chest. She hadn't thought that she would need to mourn again for a life she'd thought already gone from her, long ago.

Gift croons over her, and Sara realizes she is crying. "I am well," she murmurs to him. "I am just tired. I..." She wipes her face against the sleeve of his jacket. "I am well."

He lifts her gently and lays her on the bed, curling around her and dragging the free portion of the blanket over top of both of them, wrapping them in it. Sara wants to tell him he is doing it wrong, but Gift says, "Rest, my Sara," and she falls asleep to the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest against her ear, the most comforting of all sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned it before I think, but Huun Huur Tu (a Tuvan throat singing group) has a song called ["Prayer"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-20tFVLS0w) that is pretty much the closest I've found to how I picture Wraith music sounding. Also, their song ["The Orphan's Lament"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QbdkJ6cL4Aw) is seriously one of the most heart wrenching songs I've ever heard and is kind of how I imagine the sound of Gift's song of loneliness that Sara describes in this chapter.  
> Franklin is named after Rosalind Franklin, who first photographed DNA as a double helix.  
> Castor and Pollux are the "nestbrothers" you may (or may not) remember from "Nemo." They are named after the Argonauts and twins of Gemini fame (lol, who were Helen's brothers I think but that's neither here nor there) though technically Aerin Brewster named them after stars and not mythological figures.  
> Nestor's name also comes from Greek mythology.  
> They're in the side-story ("Intonsus") more than this one so far, but Amundsen, Hillary, Norgay, (and Drake, you haven't met him yet in this story) are named after famous explorers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard Woolsey has a full day ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this later, and not as I'm posting chapters, it might help if you pause and read "Intonsus" before continuing this story; the first scene will make reference to it.  
>   
> I've updated the summary now that I've made a decision on the 3rd narrative POV (omg, we're 10 chapters in and that was basically the _introduction_ ). I really really wanted to use a different character, as I have his own story planned for Woolsey, but he got impatient and wanted to talk about how much of a pain it is to run this circus.  
>   
> Some geographic notes: Queenhythe is what I called the world where Harmony is queen, because it doesn't have a name in canon. Tilth is the "cautiously optimistic" planet from the list of visited planets that Ronon glossed over in chapter 2 but has not been featured in the story before (or in canon).

Richard's barely set his first coffee of the morning down on his desk when Colonel Sheppard appears in his office doorway. "Mister Woolsey," he says pleasantly, though his expression is tight with tension.

"Good morning, Colonel," Richard replies, surprised to see him. "Aren't you on still on medical leave?" He checks his watch. "For another four hours?"

Sheppard's posture stiffens further. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Richard frowns as he taps a pen absently against his legal pad. "It's policy. Didn't we talk about that when you took the position?"

Sheppard relaxes slightly. "Yes. I-" He takes a deep breath. "A lot of things have changed since then. I wanted to make sure what we talked about, and what we didn't talk about, was still… okay. Now that it's kind of on my record." He meets Richard's eyes fiercely.

Richard knows he's been doing a lot of editing when it comes to Sheppard and the reports he makes back to the IOA and Homeworld Command, but thankfully Colonel Caldwell's paranoia means this particular issue had already been predicted. "The exact extent to which the addictive nature of the Wraith enzyme can be used to alter brain chemistry is still under study; there is some expectation that in your position you will encounter situations where the enzyme becomes necessary, which is why your position is primarily ceremonial while we establish more grounded relations with our new allies. When the medical staff have had more time to explore the nuances of enzyme addiction, it's likely we will alter our current procedures." He glances out the window, at the Stargate. "When we have a formal alliance established, we will appoint an official ambassador, most likely an accredited and trained individual chosen by the IOA. You will of course remain as Atlantis' primary contact point with our Wraith allies and an important part of whatever embassy staff we assemble."

"The IOA, huh?" Sheppard looks doubtful about the outcome of that.

"I like to think they pick someone who works out every now and then," Richard muses, and Sheppard grins. "I intend for Atlantis to vet their nomination before that person is officially appointed." Richard pauses for a moment as a thought comes to him. "If we're considering potential embassy staff, Sergeant Parker Nichols has transferred from the _Daedalus'_ crew to Atlantis in order to be more directly involved with the Wraith participating in the gene therapy project. And, when you have time, I'd like you to evaluate a Mister Heath Whitten and see what you think of him. He comes to the program with degrees in anthropology and political science, and his thesis topic was intergovernmental organizations. I feel like building a united Pegasus alliance would be a good fit for his interests, if you think he has the... temperament, to work closely with our Wraith allies."

Sheppard's expression sharpens as he attempts to place the names and he nods. "I'll check them out."

Richard nods. "Now, we're glad to have you back. Though, I'm sorry to hear you were injured badly enough to require healing?" He'd skimmed Major Lorne's report when it came in, but it wasn't marked urgent and he'd been planning to read it in more depth before the senior staff meeting later this morning.

Sheppard flushes. "It wasn't that bad. Bruised ribs. Just... got sick of it, and the offer was made, so." He shrugs.

Richard leans back in his chair and regards Sheppard. "I'll reiterate that we're glad to have you back, but please get out of here. I don't want to see you for at least four hours."

"I was never here," Sheppard grins and makes good his escape.

 

* * *

 

"Cináed - am I saying it correctly?" Richard asks, because the Wraith in question halts and narrows his eyes.

"It doesn't matter," the Wraith says.

"Ah- excuse me?"

The Wraith inhales a deep sigh. "I claimed this name before the Ancient One to annoy her, and to please Doctor Keller. It has no meaning to me."

"Oh," Richard registers. He ventures, "Did you have something else that you would prefer to be called?"

The Wraith's shoulders ripple in what can only be called the most elaborate expression of indifference ever. "I am the Commander's Second. That is all that matters."

"Duly noted." Richard clears his throat. "I wanted to thank you for that report you sent, and inform you that, if you weren't already aware, we're having a senior staff meeting later this morning. I'd like to cover the upcoming summit and I was hoping you'd attend and share the information you sent to me concerning the hive that approached you."

The Wraith regards him for a long moment, then inclines his head in acceptance. "I will be there."

"Thank you," Richard says. "And if you would rather be known as 'Second', or something else, we can accommodate that."

The Wraith looks put upon, but sighs again and says, almost under his breath, "You are trying, however little you understand. I suppose that is better." He leaves without awaiting a response to this observation.

Richard supposes he has to accept that, though having Todd's right-hand-Wraith be on less that excellent terms with Atlantis isn't ideal.

 

* * *

 

Richard's back in his office when Chuck brings in an elaborate looking scroll. "Ah, Mister Woolsey, Lieutenant Edison's team just brought this for you from Tilth." He sets it on Richard's desk and Richard looks at it for a moment before delicately unrolling it. "It's their official acceptance of the invitation to the summit," Chuck continues as he looks at the odd writing interestedly.

"Thank you," Richard dismisses him. There is a plethora of what appear to be signatures at the bottom of the document, and Richard touches the communicator at his ear. "Major Gilbreath?" When the Major replies, Richard says, "You were working on the seating and security arrangements for the next summit, and I believe you had mentioned seating the delegation from Tilth with the Athosians? There appear to be _several_ names on the acceptance they sent."

"Tilth doesn't really have a government," Major Gilbreath replies. "There is an elected leader, but that person is advised by the entire council of elders- which is basically every member of the tribe over the age of fourteen. Each of these elders has the opportunity to show their support for the tribe attending the summit by signing their name or having a member of their household sign to represent them."

"So, many names is a good sign," Richard muses in surprise.

Major Gilbreath continues, "Lieutenant Edison and Teyla both have met with the council of elders and, while the current 'leader' isn't allowed to leave the tribe's land, in case there's an issue while he's absent, it looks like they'll send three representatives. I've already advised Major Lorne; his team is lead on security."

"Thank you, Major." Richard smiles. A thrill of excitement runs through him, and perhaps a bit of dread, too. He's invested a lot of his command in spearheading this alliance idea, and, even now, it seems like it could explode disastrously at any moment.

 

He glances up and sees Doctor Keller approaching.

"Mister Woolsey," she greets him as she leans in the door. "I wondered if I could have a moment before the meeting?"

"Of course, Doctor Keller, please come in. I trust you have good news?"

"Yes," she says firmly. She pauses, inhaling deeply, and then says in a quick rush, "I think we're ready to go ahead with our first test group for the gene therapy."

Richard nods. "Excellent. What makes you think you're ready?"

Doctor Keller smiles wryly. "Honestly, we've probably been ready for a while, but after the reports I read on the Wraith's first attempt I'm just nervous about unpleasant surprises. But we're as ready as any testing short of full live subjects can get us."

Richard frowns. "I hope you're not rushing into this."

"No. Comhar, and the others, have been extremely thorough, and with the combination of the tests that each of our scientific traditions have developed to run, that's pretty thorough."

"How many participants do you have?"

"Five. There's Norgay, Hillary, Amundsen, and Castor and Pollux."

"That's an odd spread of names." Richard taps his pen. "Wasn't Drake, the Wraith who threatened Doctor Nivens, supposed to be a member of that group?"

"Yes. When we first started gathering participants Taibshe was talking about 'new frontiers,' so the names of famous explorers were suggested. The Wraith didn't seem opposed at the time, but Todd mentioned that Drake listed it among his complaints."

"Yes, I was just talking to... well, Todd's Second. He seems to have a contentious relationship with his name."

"Oh." Keller leans back. "He seemed to like it okay when he was telling Helen she wasn't so special. _Oh_ ," she says with a more knowing tone. "Yeah, he hadn't seemed that into it when the Nest were all picking names back on Helen's planet." Keller shrugs and makes a note. "He's not an activate part of any of my scientific groups so it's not going to be an issue if he wants to change it."

"I was attempting to see if he had a name he would prefer, but he seemed rather down on the whole idea." Richard spreads his hands.

Keller smiles in commiseration. "In any case, Drake claims he was misinformed about Helen's purpose in sending him here, and now he seems offended by the idea that we're _not_ including him in the first test group.  Ci- well... Todd's Second, said they would deal with him later, and since I'm not excited about pushing the gene therapy without fully informed consent on the participant's part I'm fine with that.

"And Castor and Pollux come from one of Todd's hives; from what I understand Scylla had Doctor Brewster name them."

"Brewster's an astronomer, correct?"

"Yes, but I think she picked the names because of their mythological source. They're from the same nest group, what we would describe as 'twins' or at least multiples."

"They don't share a genetic line with any of the other test subjects? I know you were wanting more variety in this sample to check for any possible reactions."

"Yes," Doctor Keller assures him. "I do have four distinct genetic lineages."

"Everything sounds in order; you have a go ahead. The senior staff meeting begins in a short while," Richard checks his watch, "hmm, quite shortly. I'd like you to be there, but after that-" He spreads a hand in an offering gesture and smiles.

Doctor Keller grins. "Thank you, Mister Woolsey."

 

Richard gathers his notes and heads down to the conference room for the senior staff meeting. Colonel Caldwell greets him, and Doctor Keller and Doctor Beckett are already seated beside each other at the table. Major Lorne is representing his team, currently the premier active reconnaissance team.  Ronon isn't present; Richard hadn't expected him to be, but it will leave them with an empty chair at the table that seats twelve. Teyla takes the seat to Richard's right, greeting him with a smile. Doctor McKay is frowning at his laptop, and only glances up once as the room fills.

At the last moment, Colonel Sheppard slips in the door and stands behind one of the chairs at the end of the table for a moment before he gingerly takes a seat. Richard wants to laugh in sympathy but manages to refrain; it's been a _long_ time, but he recognizes the reason for that only too well.

Colonel Sheppard is followed by Todd, his Second, and Comhar. Todd sits beside Sheppard, taking the foot of the table, so that he is the one Richard sees when he looks down the length of it. Todd's Second sits to his other side, and Comhar takes the empty chair beside Doctor Keller.

"We're a full group this morning, but I've a list of projects I wanted everyone updated on today," Richard begins. "Let's start with the summit. I've had responses from several worlds that are interested in having a delegate present. Major Lorne, I know you and Major Gilbreath have been composing the full list?"

"Yes, sir." Lorne leans forward. "We have six additional worlds interested in attending, which brings our total number of delegations to ten." He glances down at the list and reads from it, "Tilth and Queenhythe among Atlantis' previous allies are interested, and both the Genii and the Coalition of Planets are sending representatives. Helen is transporting representatives from Quresh and Raxpatour, her protected planets, so that they can meet the other world's representatives."

Richard glances up and catches Sheppard grinning at Doctor McKay, who rolls his eyes. "I'm surprised Harmony wanted any piece of this," he observes. "Did _you_ tell her about it, Rodney?"

McKay sighs. "As a matter of fact, yes." He looks down and clears his throat. "She doesn't know you'll be there."

Lorne talks over them before they can get too distracted, saying, "Teyla agreed that the group from Tilth could be seated with the Athosians." He nods to Teyla. "Gilbreath seemed certain the Quresh and Raxpatour delegates wouldn't mind sharing a table as well, so we might still be able to get everyone in the room without major redecorating." He looks at the list doubtfully.

"Very impressive," Todd rumbles.

Major Lorne's eyes snap up immediately in threat response, but he relaxes and nods in acknowledgement of what seems a genuine compliment.

Richard taps his pen against the table frowning. "The Coalition of Planets and the Genii both refused to send representatives to our first meeting," he points out. "I'll believe that Ladon Radim was waiting to see how it was going to turn out before committing, but..." He turns to where Steven is seated three chairs down.

"But the Coalition of Planets is going to be there to cause trouble," Steven says baldly. He looks down the table, raising an eyebrow at Todd.

Todd nods, as if some message has passed between them, and looks at his Second. "We will endeavor to refrain from giving them the opportunity to do so. But queens are arrogant, and the Ancient One will not heed any advice on this front."

"Which is as suspected," Richard says. "Though she seemed inclined last time to limit her entourage, which will help."

Todd looks thoughtful, and Richard takes this moment to move the discussion on to their next topic. "You have discovered a hive that has been shadowing the planet."

Keller and Lorne look up in alarm, but Steven, and presumably Sheppard, were already aware of this.

"Yes." Todd leans forward slightly. "This hive has been in the same quadrant as the planet chosen for the meetings for some time now. They have resisted any attempt to contact them and depart quickly whenever approached. The Ancient One denies that it is a hive loyal to her." He spreads his left hand and gives a half shrug, glancing at Sheppard beside him. "They do not appear to have culled any planet in the area or attacked any settlement that is part of the alliance."

"They could be waiting for us to come back before they do anything," Sheppard offers.

"Or they're the scout and they're waiting for reinforcements," Steven suggests.

Todd tilts his head back thoughtfully. "It is not usual to use a hive as a scout, but it is possible," he allows. He looks at his Second.

His Second narrows his eyes and says, "There is another matter that has more recently occurred. A different hive has approached one of the Commander's hives seeking information about the alliance."

"Oh?" Steven looks both interested and suspicious.

"Well, they wanted very _specific_ information," Sheppard adds.

The Second levels an unimpressed look at Sheppard. "The Wraith who spoke to me wished to know more about the parasite that preserves human life when the humans are fed upon. He said his queen desired this information."

"Does she now?" Steven raises an eyebrow and trades a look with Richard.

"She is more interested in different aspects of it than what you wish, I believe," Todd puts in. "The Wraith who spoke to my Second relayed that this hive was recently a victim of the plague you call the Hoffan virus. It is known that the people of Quresh where the parasite is common have not been touched by the plague. If the queen has access to a supply of humans from Quresh, it will protect her hive from any more chances of encountering the plague."

"That sounds about right," Steven mutters.

"We haven't studied it precisely," Doctor Beckett puts in, "but lab tests suggest that the presence of the parasite negates the adverse effect of the Hoffan virus on Wraith as well."

"Really?" That's interesting, though Richard isn't sure of what use it can be at this moment.

"As I said, the affected populations are rather distinct and we've not had opportunity to test it," Doctor Beckett temporizes.

"Well whatever she 'specifically' wants, this could be an opportunity," Richard says. "Helen has been extremely... generous so far, but she is still only one queen. However many other queens she has subordinate to her, her reach has limits. It would be useful to explore what other queens would be willing to contribute to the alliance." He looks at Todd, but Todd is looking at Sheppard.

"I guess I'm back to work," Sheppard says with humor. He glances at Todd then back to Richard. "I'll have a report on suggested action for you tomorrow."

Richard smiles and nods in acknowledgement. "And I believe Doctor Keller has something to share."

Keller looks up and smiles. "Well," she begins tentatively, "We have five Wraith here who are interested in participating in Atlantis' first trial of the gene therapy treatment. And, we are ready to proceed with that trial."

Major Lorne looks impressed. "How quickly do you anticipate results?"

Keller defers to Comhar, who nods to her and says, "In the previous trial, changes began to occur within hours. The side effects that proved terminal in the initial trial appeared within two weeks." He appears amused and adds, "This is an approximation after having learned your measurements of time."

"The next meeting of the alliance is set for twelve days from now," Richard muses. "With any luck we will have good news to report at that time."

Keller looks hopeful. Comhar is harder for Richard to read, but he thinks the Wraith shares Keller's optimism.

"Well, is there anything else?" When no one speaks, Richard stands. "Thank you for being here."

Major Lorne and Doctor Beckett file out, followed by Doctor Keller and Comhar. Todd seems to be making some sort of point, and he and his Second and Colonel Sheppard remain seated until the others walk past them, before rising and making their way out. Doctor McKay has been unusually silent for this meeting and Richard hears Teyla pause beside him and ask, "Are you feeling well, Rodney?"

"Yes, yes, just preoccupied," he returns, though Richard hasn't known that to stop him previously. He seems to rethink this answer as the two of them walk out, saying, "I've been tired lately."

"Are you sleeping well?" she asks, and then they step outside of Richard's hearing.

Richard is looking after them and doesn't notice that he and Steven are the last ones left until Steven clears his throat.

Richard looks at him and sighs. He knows what Steven wants to talk about. "No," he repeats. "It's too soon."

The Colonel taps his fingers on the tabletop. "You were just talking about Helen's 'generosity.' I was wondering if you had decided to make use of it."

"I understand that you are interested in the possibility of eliminating the tagged hives," Richard continues, "and I have to agree that it would be an advantage to lessen the number of hives preying on this galaxy. But we have still been unable to locate every hive that is linked by the device. It's too much of a risk."

"A risk," Steven repeats. "To whom?"

"Our potential allies."

"You're giving them too much," Steven replies. "If we want to be taken seriously as a power in the galaxy, we should have already made use of this gift. Made the Wraith recognize that we can hurt them."

"I think they are already aware of that," Richard muses, adding, when Steven raises a skeptical eyebrow, "The Hoffan virus has made it unsafe for Wraith to feed, for the first time ever."

Steven looks unimpressed. "You can't expect them to credit that to us. Michael was the one who spread it, and we never had much control of him."

"The important task at the moment," Richard tries to refocus, "is getting the gene therapy ready and getting the Wraith to agree to it."

Dissatisfied, Steven still nods and says, "Doctor Keller's team seems confident."

 Richard feels his earlier thrill of excitement, which he'd managed to keep suppressed during the meeting, return now and he grins. "This is going to work out."

Steven laughs softly. "You've banked a lot on it," he says with reluctant admiration. "I gotta say, I did not see this coming together." His expression sobers quickly. "We're not out of the woods yet, though."

"No." Richard closes his notepad. "There's still work to be done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenny is being an absolute drama llama about this whole name business. (I thought that giving it an Irish spelling/pronunciation would make it enough his own that he could own it, but it's not working out, and he has refused all my attempts to come up with something more fitting.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara wakes up on Atlantis.

Sara wakes slowly, not sure where she is, and quite certain she is still dreaming.

She is lying in bed, her mother's quilt wrapped around her. Sunlight is falling softly over the room; she is aware that it doesn't look like any room she remembers in her family's house and this is part of what makes her think it is a dream. Gift is sitting on the floor with three other Wraith seated before him, all of them facing each other. Their silence adds to the dreamlike quality, for it is easy to see by the way their expressions move and their eyes focus on each other that they are conversing, but there is no sound.

Gift turns and looks at her. When his eyes meet hers, Sara remembers. She remembers where she is, and she remembers that Atlantis' blanket is not her mother's quilt, and that she can never have Gift and her mother both. Gift comes to her and wraps her in his arms, stroking her head and crooning softly, and she hides her sudden tears against his tunic.

She cries for a short while, but she is distracted by the way that Gift's usual comforting hum is echoed by other voices, and she peeks out to look at the other Wraith.

They are three of the younger ones who are called the Nest. Sara thinks she remembers the one with the short hair is called Tiburon, but she doesn't know the others well enough to remember which ones they are. They all look concerned, and they are humming a soothing counterpoint to Gift's song that in other circumstances would lull her immediately to relaxation and sleep.

But she is more curious than she is sad, and she is certainly not tired.

"Thank you," she tells them. "Please remind me of your names."

One of them grins. "I am Taibshe," he says eagerly, with a quick bow of the head. "And these are my brothers, Tiburon and Alejandro."

Alejandro is the one with his longer hair braided into a single plait, and Taibshe has his hair loose and falling just to his shoulders. Taibshe's eyes are bright and yellow, while Tiburon's are a darker yellow orange. Alejandro's are also paler yellow, but less piercing than Taibshe's.

"Hello," she greets them. "I am Sara."

All three of them grin. "We know this," Tiburon says. "Gift has been telling us stories about your life together."

"Oh?" Sara looks up at Gift.

Gift smiles at her, and Sara is immediately struck by the openness of it compared to Gift's usual smile. "I told them of the time you would not let me hunt _cevik_ without taking you along even though you were too young, and how you yelled at the cevik and kept them from trampling me."

Sara huffs. It is a good story now, but it had been harrowing at the time. Little more than ten-years-old, she had been terrified that Gift would be injured by the monstrous beasts. She had not expected that they were just as frightened as she was and had scattered and run when she had rushed to defend Gift where he had misjudged the terrain and fallen.

The young Wraith look up at her admiringly. "Laura has told us stories about creatures called dinosaurs," Taibshe says, "but _cevik_ sound even more dangerous."

"I do not know what 'dinosaurs' are, but _cevik_ are indeed dangerous," Sara admits. "I was too young to understand this at that time. Or, perhaps, I was too frightened of the possibility of losing Gift."

The three young Wraith look at each other. "I cannot imagine if one of my brothers was to be very injured," Alejandro says. "Or to leave this world entirely." He shivers, and Sara realized that they are _very_ young.

"It did not happen," Gift says firmly. "And we are here now." His left hand rests on Sara's shoulder and she places hers over his.

Sara's stomach growls.

The Nest laughs. "Come, we will break your fast!" Taibshe says. He stands and reaches carelessly for Gift.

Gift flinches from his touch and snarls harshly, his arm tightening around Sara.

She is immediately worried, reaching for her knife in its sheath at her hip, but Taibshe backs away without affront, spreading his left hand in appeasement.

"My apologies, I forgot," he says to Gift, and his brothers chide him with soft noises as all of them back away, giving Gift space.  There is an area on the other side of the room with a small table that has chairs around it and a bowl of fruit on it and they retreat to there.

"There is some food here if you like," Alejandro says, "or we can go to the kitchen where we eat."

Sara is off kilter, Gift's face hidden against the side of her neck, and she almost doesn't truly hear Alejandro's words. "I do not think your kitchen will feed _me_ ," she says in distracted amusement.

Alejandro tilts his head. "Why wouldn't it?"

"She doesn't know about us," Taibshe observes, and all three of them grow suddenly stiff and wary.

Gift breathes a sigh against her neck and looks up. "The Nest are here in Atlantis because they have undergone a procedure which has removed their need to feed," he says to Sara.

Sara frowns. "I don't understand."

Taibshe raises his right hand to her, and she sees that his palm is whole- like hers rather than like Gift's. She had noticed before that it looked strange, but she hadn't really looked at _why_ or thought about what that would mean.

"You do not live on lifeforce?" Sara asks excitedly. "You eat... food? Like I do?"

"We always have," Tiburon says.

"As you know, when Wraith are young," Gift says to her, "they live on food like other creatures do, but when they awaken to the hunger this food will no longer sustain them." He shifts his weight. "Atlantis has found a way to prevent Wraith from awakening to the hunger."

The fact that Wraith drink the life of people is a part of her foundational meeting with Gift and is a thing so intertwined with her idea of what a Wraith _is_ that she has never thought to question it. But... if Gift didn't need their lives to sustain him, she wouldn't fear the decreasing numbers of the Bola Kai. Gift could live on _telopan_ and squeakers like she did, and they needn't be troubled, ever.

Belatedly she remembers that it doesn't matter; she has left the planet. And thinking about what John, and Amelia, have said about Atlantis she thinks she maybe understands better how the situation between the Wraith and the city is changing.

"This is a momentous thing," Sara says finally. She reaches for Gift's arm and strokes her fingers over his skin.

Gift sighs and leans into her harder.

Taibshe is looking at her warily; Tiburon and Alejandro are standing away from her and Gift, their arms around each other and Alejandro's head on Tiburon's shoulder. Sara doesn't understand why.

"Other Wraith have told them they are unnatural," Gift says to her softly. "That because they do not feed, they are not Wraith."

His voice is soft, but they can hear him, and Taibshe stiffens further, moving between Sara and the others protectively.

Sara frowns. Obviously, Gift does not find them unnatural, or he would not have been conversing with them, would not have allowed them near Sara while she slept. Gift trusts them, and she trusts Gift. And though she has never before considered feeding as a thing that could be separated from Wraith, she does not see how these young ones are any less Wraith than Gift is. "That is stupid," Sara says frankly. "They are Wraith. It is obvious."

"How is it obvious?" Gift asks her, his voice amused.

"Because you were speaking to them without words before I woke up," Sara says. "Only Wraith can do that."

Taibshe and the others have relaxed at her acceptance, and Gift chuckles softly.

Sara _is_ getting really hungry, so she stands from where she is sitting against Gift and says imperiously, "Let us go see your kitchen."

Taibshe looks excited and Alejandro beckons her to follow them; Tiburon looks still a little protective, as if worried that she will change her mind and strike at his brothers.

 

The kitchen is not far away. There are two more Wraith there- she recognizes Daisy and Hillary- and two humans. One of the humans is Sergeant Chandra, from the group she already met, and the other is another soldier who is cooking some sort of food that involves frying batter in a flat pan. It smells delicious.

The ones who aren't cooking are seated in front of the cook in a row at a counter facing him, and they all look up as the three young Wraith enter, followed by Sara and then Gift.

The soldier doing the cooking smiles at her. "Hello! You're just in time, I'm about to finish up my grandmother's famous buttermilk pancakes." He flips the circle of fried batter over. "Well, Pegasus version, I guess." He slides the finished product onto a plate, which holds others. "I'm not sure what I could get ahold of really qualifies as buttermilk. And we don't have maple syrup, but Teyla suggested a local stand in, and honestly, I think it works just as well, don't tell Chuck."

Chandra chuckles, though he keeps glancing at Hillary, who is seated next to him, with unease. "Or McKay," he adds. The cook grins.

Sara slide onto a seat at the end of the row, with Alejandro on one side and Gift on the other. "Who is Chuck?" she asks.

The cook grins. "He's up in Operations. He's from Canada, they're really proud of their maple syrup. He won't like to hear that someone else makes it just as good."

Sara nods in understanding. The soldier grins at her. "My name is Parker, by the way. And I think you know my pal, Kuldeep?" he jerks his chin at Sergeant Chandra.

Chandra smiles at Sara, then makes a hurrying motion at Parker. "Okay, let's taste your 'grandmother's famous recipe' already."

Parker divides the pancakes onto separate plates and gives them out to those waiting. Gift declines, but Hillary takes a plate.

Sara watches Hillary with interest. He notices her staring and curls his lip in annoyance. "I am interested in why you are eating the food if you cannot gain nourishment from it," she asks. She glances at Alejandro beside her to affirm, "You have not undergone the procedure, have you?"

"Not yet," Hillary agrees. "But that does not mean I can't enjoy the taste of it now."

Sara agrees that this is sound logic, and takes a bite of the pancake off the edge of her plate, savoring the sweet taste, before turning with the others and observing how Chandra uses a fork to cut pieces off the syrup drenched pancake and raise them to his mouth to eat. The Wraith make appreciative sounds.

It's _delightful_ , and Sara devours hers and asks for more. Parker piles her second helping with cut fruit as well as syrup. Gift is pleased by watching her enjoy the food and only samples a small piece for himself, seeming to be content with that.

Amelia shows up when Sara is almost done eating. "I'll show you around the city some more today, if you'd like," she offers.

"Yes," Sara affirms. "I need to see the place that is your favorite. It is next on my list," she says in all seriousness.

Amelia smiles. "You've got it."

"Can Gift come with us?" Sara asks, remembering their conversation yesterday.

"Of course. We'll just need Sergeant Nichols or Sergeant Chandra to escort us?" Amelia raises an eyebrow at the soldiers.

Chandra waves to Parker. "Go on. You cooked, I'll clean up. And tomorrow I'll make everyone my _dadi_ 's famous puri bhaji." He makes a gesture that encompasses the not-maple syrup and a good portion of the kitchen. "Pegasus edition."

Parker grins, and the Wraith look excited.

 

Sergeant Nichols washes up and dusts flour off of his shirt before putting on his jacket and his sidearm, and he is ready to escort them.

Amelia leads the way. "I'm going to take you at your word, about my favorite place. It's not exactly a tourist stop," she tells Sara seriously. "It's a bit of a walk to the East Pier, but it won't hurt after a breakfast like that. And we can take a transporter part of the way."

Sara is excited and practically bounces down the hallways, not letting how the roof blocks her view of the sun bother her today. She is used to walking everywhere she goes anyway, but the transporter is interesting.

"Step in here," Amelia tells them, stopping beside a small room.

Gift curls his lip but follows Sara in, placing himself between Sara and the wall as Sergeant Nichols steps in as well. Sara wonders what exactly this is supposed to achieve when the door closes.

And the door opens on another location entirely.

Sergeant Nichols steps out and Sara follows him in wonder. They had been standing in a hallway, and now the hallway is a wide intersection of hallways with a large window of patterned glass across from them.

Sara recovers quickly and follows Amelia.

They arrive at a room where many people are gathered around. They appear to be watching something and talking amongst themselves. Sara can hear what sounds like combat.

Amelia sighs. "He's at it again?" she asks a man near her.

The man's eyes are locked on Gift and he says. "Yep." After a moment he adds, "Don't suppose _this_ has anything to do with it?"

"Probably," Amelia admits. "Sara, this is Captain Gabriel St Cyr. Gabe, this is Sara and Gift who are guests of the city."

Sara inclines her head. "Greetings to you, Captain."

He grins and nods to her. "Gabe's fine." He raises an eyebrow at Sergeant Nichols before his eyes come to rest on Gift.

"Who's his victim today?" Amelia asks.

"Greenest troops we've got," Gabe grins.

Amelia groans and rolls her eyes. Turning to Sara she says, "Sara, this is the gym. It's where we go to do activities and practice martial arts. Come on, I'll see if we can get closer. It's usually more of a place where you can do your own thing, but when Ronon's here he tends to run the room."

"Ronon?" Sara queries. "Should we leave him?" Amelia looks at her in question and Sara says, "I know that he does not care for Gift. I do not wish to show my appreciation for John's friends coming for him by aggravating them."

Amelia snorts. "Trust me, he could use some aggravating." She pushes her way into the crowd of soldiers.

In the room the soldiers are grouped around an open space where Ronon is methodically putting an obviously less experienced soldier through a series of strikes and parries. The observers startle when they see Gift, but Sergeant Nichols waves to them what must be an "all's well" sign and they calm, but still leave a space around Sara, Gift, Amelia, and Nichols.

Observing, Sara can see that Ronon is a very skilled warrior. He has greater strength and ability than his opponents and he pushes the younger warriors to their limits, but not past them. They depart when he is through with them, exhausted but more well learned.

When he has worked through half the room he finally looks up and locks eyes with Gift. He shifts his weight in a way that reveals to Sara he'd known they were there, probably since they first came in. His eyes narrow in dislike, but he turns away, back to his next opponent.

Which, there isn't one- in that moment none of those who remain are interested in testing themselves against Ronon Dex.

Sara steps forward, into the open area.

Ronon lowers his head and glares at her.

Sara glances at Gift, to assure him she knows what she is doing and does not require his interference. He bares his teeth in a quick snarl but subsides and watches.

She paces around the open space, her chin raised in challenge.

Ronon paces around the circle, opposite her, watching her.

Sara can hear the whispers around her, wondering what she thinks she can accomplish against this opponent. He towers over her and is massive when contrasted to her slim frame.

Sara has always fought opponents who are larger than herself. True, she has used space and cover to her advantage, two things gone from her in this contest. She is as eager as any other to see how this turns out. She knows she is not a trained warrior, but her life has not been an easy one and the mark of that shows in her hard muscles and quick eye.

Ronon strikes first, a straight punch from his dominant hand that she sidesteps easily. He grins at her wildly and follow it up with a quick flurry of strikes that have her moving quickly to avoid them. When he tries to trip her by moving his foot inside her guard, she kicks him in the side of the knee; she is not used to pulling the full force of her strikes, as she can feel that he is doing for her, and she gives a quick frown of distaste when the kick connects hard, and thankfully just off target enough to not immediately put the bones out of joint, though Ronon doesn't look bothered.

Sara can feel that he is running her through her paces as easily as he was the young soldiers. She may know different moves than them, and as a part of her dispassionately observes that Ronon uses the same strikes against her as the others she can also see that her form is sloppier than the soldiers' had been, but it does not change the overall contest. Ronon is a warrior of a class that she has never encountered.

By the time he pins her he is breathing as hard as she is which is a small victory. He has his arm pressed across her chest, and Sara panics slightly because she can't catch her breath and if the Bola Kai get their hands on her it will be the end of everything, and she can't reach her knife so she strikes out wildly with her right hand, her fingers clawing over his face in search of purchase, and she only remembers that he is Ronon and not trying to kill her when he turns his head enough that her fingers catch on his cheekbone rather than in his eye socket.

He releases her and looks at her for a long moment.

Sara sits up, trying to calm her breathing. "My apologies," she says softly. She forgot herself, and that is dangerous; she should not have sought this fight.

Ronon shakes his head in refusal. "You've got good instincts," he grunts. "It'll keep you alive. Shouldn't apologize for staying alive." He offers her his hand.

When she takes it, he pulls her to her feet like she weighs nothing. He dabs at the blood on his cheek and grins at her.

Sara glances over in search of Gift to see that John and Todd have joined him, Amelia, and Nichols. Gift's gaze is hard and intent, but he does not look concerned for her; rather, his eyes are focused on Ronon.

John, however, does look concerned and, seeing that they are finished, he jogs over. He glances between them worriedly. "That was something," he observes.

"I should not have-" Sara begins.

But Ronon holds up his hand. "It's good," he informs John, his tone implying he challenges anyone to disagree with the statement. He wipes at the blood on his cheek again and goes to pick up a towel before turning to depart.

 

John frowns after him but turns back to Sara rather than follow. "I wanted to see you again before I leave," he begins.

Leave?" Sara asks in immediate concern.

"Yeah, Todd and I are headed out, to check on a hive that wants to join the alliance."

Sara perks up; he is not _leaving_ but merely going on a temporary journey. "May I come? I would love to see a hive."

John grins. "Maybe next time. There'll be plenty of opportunities. I think you could use a little more downtime on Atlantis first. Relax. Get to know the city a little better. Have Amelia show you some movies. I just, you know, wanted to make sure you'll be okay." He looks slightly contrite. "Don't want you to feel like there's no one here you know."

She is still buzzing from her fight with Ronon, so she has a hard time concentrating. "I know Amelia," Sara says. "And the Nest. And your team, and Major Lorne's team. And I'm sure I will know others, like Sergeant Nichols."

John smiles. "Good. That's good." He clears his throat. "I'm gonna have a chat with Ronon, too."

Sara shakes her head. "It was my fault. I should not have engaged him."

John nods but doesn't look like he believes her, and he calls, "See you later," before he follows Ronon's path out of the room.

Sara returns to Gift, and the others. Amelia is chatting with Todd, who inclines his head respectfully as Sara approaches.

"If you can wait on a shower," Amelia turns to Sara and says, "I'd recommend cleaning up in your quarters. There are showers here at the gym if you want to clean up right away, but there are a lot of male marines and let's just say you can smell the truth of it in there."

Gabe chuckles, unrepentant, though Nichols looks abashed. Gift and Todd appear somewhat bemused, but Sara is rather taken with the idea that, "In my quarters there is a shower?"

Amelia grins. "Damn straight there is."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronon's not sure what to do with this girl.

"Can we agree that beating the shit out of little girls is not cool?"

Ronon glares at Sheppard and throws down the towel in his hand. His cheek has stopped bleeding and he shakes his head. Sometimes he forgets how different Sheppard and his people are. "Do you know how many kills she has?"

Sheppard stills. "What?"

"She lived on a planet with the Bola Kai for years. They would have hunted her, as well as the Wraith. You think the Wraith got them all? You think he taught her to fight like that to defend herself against _wakala_?" Ronon grunts in annoyance at having to spell it out. "She's not a child."

Sheppard leans back, arms folded. "She should have the chance to be."

He sounds wistful, and Ronon almost feels bad pointing out that the truth is, "Can't change who she is."

Sheppard sighs and rubs his eyes. "Look, I'm headed out, with Todd. We're going to be scouting a hive that might be interested in joining the alliance. I just wanted to say, while I'm gone, try not to give her a hard time? She's lost a lot. She doesn't need you riding her about Gift. He's the last thing she has left."

 _Gift._ What a thing to call a Wraith. Ronon nods; he's not going to give her shit about the Wraith.

"Alright." Sheppard sighs like he wanted something more. "See you 'round."

And he leaves, again. It seems like they just got him back. But it's his job. Maybe if Teyla and McKay weren't busy with other things they could have gotten the team together for this mission. Maybe it if didn't involve playing nice with Wraith Ronon would have suggested it.

"Sheppard," Ronon calls. Right by the door, Sheppard turns back; Ronon pulls a sheathed knife from his boot and tosses it over. "Be careful."

Sheppard catches it and nods, and he smiles like he appreciates the gesture.

 

Ronon decides that he'd rather do some running than clean up just yet, and he's headed back down the hallway past the gym when he sees Sheppard, Nichols, and both the Wraith ahead of him. It's an instinct to halt in a shadow and watch, see if the Wraith have seen him yet.

They haven't. Gift is staring at the wall and grimacing, and Todd is looking at Sheppard. Sheppard is toying with the knife that Ronon gave him, pulling it out to check the blade before sliding it back into the sheath. Todd's expression softens with approval, and Ronon can see the moment that Sheppard looks up and their eyes meet because Todd smiles.

For Ronon, Wraith mean pain, violence, anger. It's... a part of him and it's what Wraith _are_. It's written in the history of the death of his entire world. He knows there is... affection between Sheppard and Todd, but in this moment, he sees that Todd is pleased that Sheppard would be armed and able to defend himself, even against Wraith. Ronon touches the scratch above his eye. In the same way Gift was pleased to teach Sara to defend herself, to drill her to always go for maximum damage- Ronon could feel her intent in the way she fought.

He turns and makes his way out to the pier to run. Staying in one place is something he's still getting used to as well; running helps clear his head.

 

* * *

 

Ronon doesn't see the girl again for a few days. He runs in the morning the next day, before getting roped into helping Lorne's team run herd on some scientists moving and sorting through some heavy debris from one of the previously flooded and only lightly explored areas of the lower city, and then he's lending a hand on a mission with Edison's team and that takes most of another day.

But on the third day he arrives at the gym in time to see Amelia being grappled by the Wraith. Its hand is on her chest; it's reaching for her throat.

Ronon snarls and immediately grabs Gift and throws him against the wall. The Wraith snarls at him but allows himself to be pinned.

"Ronon!" Amelia says in reproof. Behind her he can hear the soldier who is escorting the Wraith also protesting but the sound of it feels distant.

Ronon's knee lights up with pain from a hard kick, and then a pair of bantos rods strike him heavily in the side, the rods held lengthwise and hitting right above the hip, and he stumbles sideways, away from the Wraith. He looks up to see Sara, having landed the kick to his knee she'd partially deflected in their previous bout and armed with the bantos rods. She is scowling at him. "Gift was allowing Amelia to practice her technique for overcoming an opponent," she explains patiently, as if it should be obvious what they were doing and her patience at having to correct Ronon's assumption is a concession she is granting him. She twirls the bantos rods in her hand like someone who is just learning a new weapon, and she eyes him like she's wondering if he's learned _his_ lesson yet.

Ronon leans against the wall. This girl. She is infuriating. Because of the Wraith, but also because she reminds him of Sateda. It's nothing of _her_ precisely; she does resemble Tyre a bit. But it's the look in her wild eyes- the look of someone who has seen the death of their entire world. Ronon feels that they should have some connection in that, that he should be able to mentor her through surviving beyond that death. But she keeps turning it around and showing him that she doesn't need his help in that area. The Wraith has been there for her, and Ronon doesn’t understand why- doesn't understand what the Wraith is getting out of this.

Amelia comes and stands next to him, and Sara and Gift take the center of the room. They move like dancers who know each other well as the Wraith strikes, and allows Sara to strike at him, only curling his lip in annoyance as the bantos rods strike with bone-cracking force against his flesh. Sara always attacks with everything in her. It had puzzled Ronon at first in their own fight; he'd thought maybe she was scared of him even though she'd sought the confrontation. But he can see now that it's that she's not used to _practice_ ; every fight is a fight for survival. Ronon understands that, he's lived it. But it's different from how he was taught, from how the marines are taught.

There is an unspoken signal between Sara and Gift and as Sara steps back, breathing heavily, Gift also relaxes and when he steps forward into her space and reaches to brush her cheek with the fingers of his left hand Sara easily reads from his intent that the combat is finished. She speaks to him softly, and the Wraith presses his forehead to hers.

They step away from each other and though Sara attempts unsuccessfully to contain her wayward black curls she is otherwise showing very little wear from the workout. She turns to Amelia eagerly. "You said there was something called ice cream you wished to show me?"

Amelia smiles. "It would be my pleasure." She glances at Ronon, including him in the invitation to come with, and he grunts and goes with them. Gift curls his lips in affront but gives no protest at Ronon's proximity, keeping his attention focused on Sara.

Lieutenant Sitwell joins them in the mess, and Sara greets him warmly. Ronon wouldn't have thought that Sitwell's poorly hidden suspicion of the Wraith would be something that the girl would welcome, but then he remembers that Sitwell is one of only about ten people she knows the name of in the entirety of Atlantis.

Ronon glances around the mess. St Cyr is not far away at a table with a mixture of soldiers and civilians. Recognizing the faces at St Cyr's table, Ronon catches his attention and makes a gesture. St Cyr shrugs, then leans in to speak to the table. Ronon sees Broysa's head pop up and look over at them, as if she hadn't noticed previously that there was a Wraith in the mess. Ronon snorts under his breath at her; she's pretty new to Atlantis, and definitely a scientist who keeps her head buried in her craft whenever possible, a habit she'll have to unlearn if she's intending to fill one of the open slots on Teldy's Reconnaissance Team.

Next to Broysa, Sergeant Alvarez stands from the table and leads the woman with him over to theirs. "Hello," he says to Sara. "You must be Sara. I've heard a lot about you. I'm Santiago Alvarez, and this," he gestures to his companion, "is Brigid Callahan."

Callahan waves timidly, but sits at the table, easily taking the open seat in front of where the Wraith is standing against the wall, watching them.

"I am pleased to meet you," Sara says, smiling warmly at Callahan's easy acceptance of Gift's proximity.

Broysa followed them over and sits on Sara's other side, away from Gift, her curious eyes on the Wraith. "Hello! I'm Ambrosia Ramos Santos. Please, call me Broysa."

"Hello," Sara returns, sounding her way through the word. "Please, join us in having some ice cream."

Broysa grins. "Chocolate's my favorite."

"Rocky Road," Callahan says dreamily as she reaches for a spoon.

Alvarez chuckles, taking his own spoon and explaining to Sara, "That's a flavor they don't have here. But at least we're not limited to MRE rations, no?"

There is laughter and sounds of disgust all around, and some stories of MREs are shared, and as St Cyr sidles up to take the chair next to Ronon, at the opposite end of the table from Gift, he says softly, "To hear Gilbreth go on you'd think the Wraith were plotting to take over the city from the inside. That one doesn't look like he's plotting anything except how to get the hell out of here. I've never seen anyone but my sister be so uncomfortable in a group of people."

Ronon frowns.  St Cyr is one of the marines he feels the most comfortable with, but there are moments like this where it is brought forcibly to his awareness that these people are still alien to this galaxy. To ever underestimate what the Wraith are capable of…

Ronon watches the people around the table. Sara eases her way into the conversation, and, even when it passes over her, she looks comfortable with the people who are there, Amelia sitting at her side.

There's a point where Ronon notices that the Wraith is watching _him_ , and his eyes snap to the creature and lock there for the rest of the time the meal continues. The Wraith's expression suggests an understanding of Ronon's state of mind that Ronon wants to violently refute. But when Ronon glares at him, the Wraith drops his eyes to Sara without any expression of discomfort at having been caught out and does not look at Ronon again.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Sara goes with Teyla to visit New Athos. Amelia has some time to spare from her duties and makes it clear to Ronon how she would like to spend it.

He's happy to oblige.

It's... nice, to feel warm and sated and pleased with the way that she is warm and sated and pleased against him. It's something he hadn't let himself feel since... since Melena, and even with her it wasn't like that in the end.

So, he's missed having this. The afternoon light from the windows is golden on her skin as Amelia grins and rolls atop him. They kiss lazily, she strokes his chest, and he lets his fingers find their way blindly over the small of her back and down to the soft curve of her thighs. She sighs contentedly, and the only thing more precious than the sound is knowing he caused it.

"You were saying something earlier?" he asks her, amused that he's brought her past the point of coherent thought. "About St Cyr."

"Mmmm," is her only response for a few moments. She's lying with her head on his chest, but she crosses her hands and rests her chin on them, to look at him speculatively. "I know you weren't interested in Carol," she begins. When he squints in confusion she clarifies, "Carol Servaas, in botany." Ronon grunts in agreement and Amelia rolls her eyes. "So, what about Gabe?"

Ronon plays with a bit of her hair as he thinks about it. It's been a long time since he's had a male partner, but in spite of Amelia suggesting that they add another party to their romantic trysts often enough that the idea is rather commonplace by now, he _is_ intrigued. "He's interested?"

"As far as I can tell without asking outright. I wanted to make sure you were on board."

Ronon frowns. "You can have whoever you want. Don't have to run it by me." While so far they've managed to work out what differences they've had, Amelia has brought to him some unusual ideas as to what constitutes a relationship. He hadn't thought needing permission was one of them, but always discovering something new is one of the things he likes about being with her.

"I _know_ ," she says. She traces a finger down the side of his neck. "But I missed you when it was me and Carol. It was much nicer that time with you, me, and Latisha. Remember?" He rumbles an affirmative, and she taps the tip of her finger against his collarbone. "I'm not sure I'm as interested if you're not there."

He chuckles. "I'm spoiling you for anyone else?"

"Fuck off," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I just like the way you are." She strokes her fingers over the flat of his pectoral, tracing the seam of a recent scar. "The way you see things. See me. I want to share that with people, because it's a precious thing." She bites her lip and her eyes flash dark with promise. "And I want a hand making you absolutely wild with wanting it," she says huskily. "I think Gabe would be down for that."

He grunts to hide how much he agrees that that would be something he wants and takes a moment to think about it for a bit more. "Gabe's okay," he agrees.

Amelia grins and kisses his nose. He grumbles and rolls her beneath him as she laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The second "side story" is about John & Todd's trip, and chapter 1 should be posted tomorrow-ish.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woolsey checks in on the status of the gene therapy project and sees off the Travelers.

Colonel Sheppard has been gone on his and Todd's mission for two days; there has been no contact with Todd's hive and, though it hasn't been that long, Richard would have liked to know how things were going with this new Queen. There are only nine days left until the scheduled meeting of the summit. Richard wouldn't _say_ he's worried about how _that_ entire kettle of fish is likely to turn out, but, even though he'd promised himself he wasn't going to micromanage her, he finds himself hovering in the observation level above the isolation room where Doctor Keller is conducting Atlantis' first full test of the Wraith gene therapy.

Just in case hyper-focusing on the precise thing that the entire alliance hinges on will work as a distraction from his other concerns.

The room easily holds five beds; the usual privacy curtains are missing, Richard assumes at the request of the Wraith, as they seem to prefer sleeping at least two to a bed.  Richard has met all of the young Wraith personally, but, as he looks down now, it's hard to recognize the vibrant young personalities he had encountered in the grimacing forms curled in disarray on white linens under dimmed overhead lights amid blinking medical equipment. He does see Taibshe and Daisy assisting Keller and Comhar; he recalls that of the Nest they were the ones most interested in observing the process of the transformation they had undergone, on their way to their own careers in the medical sciences.

Doctor Keller sees him watching and comes up to report.

"I didn't want to interrupt your work," Richard says. He means that she doesn't need to report every step to him, that he will wait to hear her results until the time she'd said the test would be past its initial hurdles.

But she shakes her head and, as she pulls off her mask, he can see that she is smiling, pleased. "It's going really well," she says.

"Good," Richard replies, surprised. "I must say, they don't look like it's going that well."

Jennifer grimaces in sympathy. "The initial physiological changes come with some discomfort. And they're feeling it a lot more than the Nest did, though Franklin reports that the initial unsuccessful test also included a rather painful transition as the enzyme was reabsorbed. Not that similarity in that area is encouraging to hear, but Comhar and Franklin agree that it's likely happening because these Wraith have higher levels of enzyme from having lived by the feeding process. Our youngest subjects are responding the best, which bears out their hypothesis."

"Castor and Pollux," Richard replies. He remembers them, only two centuries old; mere "babies," even compared to the other Wraith in this test group of younger Wraith.

Jennifer nods. "If you wanted to come down, I think they'd like to have a distraction."

"Is it safe? For them. I know you have them in isolation."

"That was just a precaution. The therapy continues to show no sign of affecting the Wraith's immune systems."

Richard straightens his jacket. "Well then." He follows her down to the lower floor.

 

He's not sure what he's doing; visiting the ill is not something he does often, and the only lesson learned at his father's bedside that might be applicable here is so generically true that it's hardly worth mentioning: don't burden the suffering with your own worries.

The room doesn't smell as much like disinfectant and other hospital smells as he was expecting, and there is a strange scent underneath it that he realizes is from the presence of so many Wraith in the room. It smells like... stone, oddly enough. Dry, with an indefinable sharpness that reminds him of the conifers behind the house where he grew up. It's unexpected but not unpleasant.

Richard inclines his head in greeting to Comhar, who returns the greeting and then returns to tending his current patient. He and Doctor Keller both are bent over the bed of the oldest participant, Amundsen, who is having the most difficult time of it.

Richard turns to the bed near him and realizes this first bed near the door contains Pollux, the tattoo under his left eye clearly visible from this angle.

The young Wraith looks up, eyes glazed, though apparently from boredom more than pain. "Commander," he murmurs.

Richard halts. "It's Mister Woolsey," he clarifies, not sure if the young Wraith has somehow mistaken him for... they're from one of Todd's hives he thinks. Does he think Richard is Todd?

"Yes," Pollux says. He sits up slowly, and when he wobbles for a moment and looks like he might not make it all the way, Richard hurries closer to make sure he doesn't fall.

"Careful," Richard murmurs, his hand resting on the side of the Wraith's shoulder. The Wraith's skin feels chilled and Richard looks at the monitoring device, but he isn't sure what normal vital signs are for Wraith. "Doctor Keller," he calls.

Daisy appears at his shoulder. "Is something amiss?"

"I'm not sure," Richard admits. "Pollux feels really cold. Is that normal?"

Daisy blinks at him then turns to regard Pollux. It takes Richard a moment to realize their silence is probably a telepathic conversation. Daisy picks up the blanket from the foot of the bed. "He should be warmer," he says, and chides, "Just because you are not feeling so poorly as Amundsen does not mean you should not take care to rest warmly while the transformation is still ongoing."

Pollux looks rebellious, and Richard takes the blanket from Daisy.

"Thank you," he says. "I'll make sure he stays warm."

Daisy looks at Richard, then bows his head and leaves.

Richard wraps the blanket around Pollux's shoulders so that it covers him entirely. He clears his throat and leans back, suddenly uncomfortable.

"You called me Pollux," the young Wraith observes. He blinks at Richard slowly.

Richard is caught off guard. "Yes, of course. Or, did you not want me to call you by your name?"

Pollux shakes his head. "Most humans cannot tell us apart," he says. "Myself and my brother."

As if summoned, Castor slips into the bed from the other side, wrapping his arms around Pollux. He turns his head to blink yellow eyes at Richard.

"You _are_ very alike," Richard says to Pollux. "And this does help." His hand releases the blanket and reaches to gesture to the marking under Pollux's left eye.

"Even with the marking many cannot tell," Castor complains. He pushes Pollux forward as he squirms around him, so that Richard's hovering fingers make contact with the Wraith's face.

The skin is very smooth, and Richard's fingers glide over Pollux's cheek naturally and easily until his hand is cupped against it. Pollux looks up at him, his expression one of easy comfort. "Commander," he murmurs again.

"I'm not-" Richard protests, snatching his hand back.

"You are the leader of Atlantis," Castor points out. "Atlantis is your hive and you are its Commander."

It's perhaps technically true, but Richard doesn't think it really means the same thing in Wraith.

He would protest again, but Pollux interrupts. "You said the marking helps. But you can tell us apart anyway?"

"Yes, of course." Richard looks into his yellow eyes, soft and warm. He clears his throat. "How are you doing? With the treatment?"

Pollux holds out his right hand, looking down at it almost in wonder. His palm is smooth, only a shadow, like a faded scar, running down its center. "I do not feel the hunger," he murmurs with some trepidation, as if alarmed by the reality of the words.

Castor shivers. He holds out his own hand; the shadow on his palm is lighter, almost looking more healed than his brother's even though they began the treatment at the same time. "I do not either," he replies. "But I feel..." He drops his right hand to cover his stomach and frowns. "It has been a long time since I hungered here."

"Well," Richard says brightly, excited that the procedure seems to be working.

Daisy pauses as he passes by and looks at them, pointing a finger in a suspiciously human manner. "Do not give them anything, Mister Woolsey," he says, glancing chastising at Castor. "He cannot eat food yet. The procedure is not complete."

Castor grumbles, hiding his face in his brother's hair.

"Perhaps, when this is over," Richard says hesitantly, "we can get lunch together." He's not sure why he offers, other than in a lame attempt to distract them from what they cannot have now.

But Pollux and Castor look up excitedly. "Yes," Castor murmurs. "We would like that," Pollux adds in his shyer but firmer voice.

"Excellent." Richard is really pleased, though he's not sure why entirely.

Castor and Pollux trade a warm grin.

"Now, you should be resting," Richard tells them.

"Yes, yes, we will do so, Commander," they both murmur, ducking their heads. They curl up on the one bed, their limbs tangled together, and Richard pulls the blanket so it covers them.

Richard walks down the other beds. Norgay and Hillary are curled against each other in one of them, sleeping. Beside the last bed, which holds Amundsen, Daisy and Taibshe are assisting Comhar in producing a deep humming noise.

The sound thrums through Richard and seems to rattle his bones. Doctor Keller is inputting something on a tablet; Richard leans so that he can see the screen, suspecting that she might be making notes of the procedure that Comhar and his assistants are trying.

She isn't, but she realizes what he's interested in and leans closer to say softly, "Comhar thinks it will help with the pain. Wraith usually use it for other things, but so far," she gestures to the vital signs monitor beside Amundsen's bed, "it seems to be helping."

Richard nods. But he feels awkward here, and like he's not really helping, so he clears his throat as quietly as possible and turns to leave.

He spares a last look at Castor and Pollux before he exits, and sees Castor's yellow eyes watching him for a moment before closing in sleep.

 

* * *

 

Richard returns to Operations. He's still getting used to the sight of Latisha Jones and Grant Morgan at the technician station on full shifts; Amelia is on a rotating half-shift because of her other duties, and three days ago Chuck returned home to Earth because of a family health situation.

Latisha looks up when she sees him approaching. "I was just about to call you, sir. We're tracking a ship that just came out of hyperspace," she says.

Richard frowns. "Can you identify it?"

"It's not Wraith, or Ancient," she says, frowning as she goes down the list, but her face suddenly relaxes. "They've hailed us. It's a Traveler ship."

"Oh, good." They're early, but expected. "Put them on screen, if you're able to."

Latisha brings up the display easily.

A dark-haired and solemn young woman looks back at Richard. "Atlantis, I am Commander Zashi Labrea."

"Welcome, Commander," Richard says warmly. "I'm Richard Woolsey. You're ahead of Commander Larrin's predictions for your arrival, but I know she'll be glad to see you. Please feel free to use the East Pier to land your ship. Our military commander will meet you there, and I'll have Commander Larrin notified of your arrival."

Commander Labrea simply nods and disconnects.

Richard raises an eyebrow. Not much of a talker. "Latisha, please notify Commander Larrin her people's ship has arrived." Latisha nods, and Richard wonders if this Commander Labrea is any relation to the Traveler who visited Atlantis while Richard was off with the _Daedalus_ making the first steps to explore the gene therapy project. He ponders also what Larrin told the governing council of the Travelers, and the other ship commanders, about the alliance. He's thankful that there are no hives in orbit at present, to have caused any misunderstandings.

He knows Steven is handling it, but Richard is curious and there's no reason he _can't_ meet with the Travelers. Instead of heading into his office he walks down the stairs and around to the nearest transporter, making his way over to the East Pier.

The Traveler ship is large, filling an extensive chunk of the pier. He can easily make out three figures standing to one side, talking, and another group centered around Doctor Beckett and the Traveler with the broken collarbone, Kian.

Richard walks toward the talkers. As he approaches, he notes that Commander Labrea is a shorter woman than Larrin with a much slenderer build. She appears to be listening more than talking; Steven looks to be the one talking, bending toward the Traveler commanders. Larrin is deliberately ignoring the way that Steven towers over both of them- a situation and an attitude that Richard is familiar with. Larrin is standing so that she is the first to see Richard approaching and, as she speaks with Steven, she is watching Richard, her face impassive.

"Hello again, Mister Woolsey." Larrin speaks before Richard can catch his breath. Steven turns toward him, brows quirked in mild annoyance that Richard seems to be checking up on him. "Thank you for Atlantis' hospitality, but we really most be going."

"Of course," Richard says, but rallies, "I was wondering if you were interested in having us set aside a table for you at the next summit to discuss the alliance."

Larrin stops and turns back to regard him, much as Richard's father would regard a fish he was thinking about throwing back. "A table?" she repeats, turning the words suggestive in her mouth.

Richard is aware that he is flushing, but he takes a deep breath. He knows she does it to throw her male counterparts off balance; he's spoken with her and seen her talking to others enough to get a good handle on her style. And he knows she knows all the salient facts about the alliance, they've discussed it previously during her time here, so he's not going to try to bumble his way through them again under her sharp scrutiny. He just jumps right to the meat of it. "I think we have a legitimate chance to eliminate the Wraith as a threat to human lives in this galaxy. You don't need to be a part of that," he says frankly, "but this is your galaxy, too. I thought you'd want to be present. To have your voice heard."

Larrin gives him a slow, thin smile. "Did you think that, Mister Woolsey?" she purrs, and she looks him up and down. The silence holds for what seems an interminable time; Steven is looking out at the water like he wishes he could leave, and Labrea is looking at Larrin with an expression of amusement. Larrin's face grows weary and thoughtful for a moment- almost like her mask is slipping, though it's hard to say if the show of vulnerability isn't just part of the mask. "You may set three seats for the Travelers," she says unexpectedly. "I've spoken to the governing council and they're intrigued, after Atlantis' successful removal of the Replicator threat. They are interested to hear what you think will work with the Wraith." She narrows her eyes. "Noncommittally, of course."

"Of course," Richard replies.

Larrin folds her arms over her chest and leans back. "Colonel Caldwell was just saying how you've invested your entire career in this endeavor, Mister Woolsey." She grins predatorily, the mask firmly back in place. "I do like a bold move. Almost as much as I like it when it explodes." She turns and walks away. Commander Labrea smirks and follows Larrin back to the ship without speaking.

"I didn't say that," Steven says, after she's entered her ship and they're turning to go back inside.

"I know," Richard assures him. "She likes to stir people up."

"And you _want_ her to be at your big party?" Steven observes dryly.

Richard nods. "She's smart. The Wraith aided us with the Replicators- she knows that they make good allies when they have a reason to be. She knows that fighting them hasn't worked; her people took to space to avoid the Wraith because fighting them didn't work.

"And she's right," he adds. If this doesn't work, it will be the end of his career. Hopefully not the end of too many other things as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a Sara chapter, but I'm reading through the Legacy books and there's a scene where Jack is really mean to Woolsey and I just needed to write a fluffy scene for him, poor baby, and then Larrin decided to tag along, too. Sara's chapter will be next. 
> 
> Zashi- short for "wakizashi"- is the younger sibling of Katana Labrea. If you're familiar with the Japanese samurai practice of carrying daisho you may have noticed that I made their names a pun. Puns are fun!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara visits New Athos.

Sara makes her way to Operations along with Gift, Tiburon, Alejandro, and Sergeant Nichols. They are all traveling to New Athos today with Teyla: Tiburon to visit his friend and Sara to visit the market and Teyla’s people, and the others just to come along. It's almost afternoon here in Atlantis, but the morning will be just beginning in New Athos.

Gift follows the Wraithlings as they go to stand by the portal; he is amused by Tiburon's one-handed gestures as he is attempting to emphasize something to Alejandro while also holding on to a box that contains a gift he is bringing for his friend, Jinto.

Sara tugs at the fit of her Lantean shirt, still not used to the new clothing even after several days, and climbs the steps to where she sees Teyla speaking with Mister Woolsey.

"-bring more guards?" Mister Woolsey is saying.

"Guards are not necessary," Teyla replies. "I discussed it with the council, and all the people voted on it. They were impressed by Todd's initial delegation, and Comhar's tales of the way Wraith live with the humans of Quresh and Tamzare, in the same societies. They wish to see if such a thing is possible. And as you know, Tiburon has been to New Athos several times."

"If you're certain," Mister Woolsey replies.

"My people are certain," Teyla says, with a caution which communicates that she may not agree with them. "At least, a strong majority are certain that we are ready to receive Wraith without the need for the Wraith to be guarded every moment. Some are concerned that it is too soon," and Sara feels that Teyla would take this position herself, "but, truly, traders have already been arriving for the New Moon Market and there is much curiosity about the Wraith." She adds dryly, "This may be the most well-attended market day we've had yet."

"I suppose there are quite a few people interested in seeing if this is something that will work," Mister Woolsey says. "I know Sergeant Nichols will be keeping an eye on the Wraithlings."

"They are too young to be entirely unescorted," Teyla agrees. "But he may be distracted, as I believe there is someone else he wishes to keep an eye on." Her voice is rich with humor.

"Oh? Well, he is technically off duty." He sounds concerned.

"It will be what it will be I suspect, Mister Woolsey," Teyla observes. She sighs. "My people have outstripped me in their eagerness for the alliance to be settled. Gift is one Wraith, and if my people believe they are ready for this step he is one that I do not believe would bring harm willfully to them."

"You know them best, of course." They trade a knowing smile, and Mister Woolsey adds, "The gene therapy is going well enough, and Colonel Sheppard finally checked in; they're two days out. We expect Jeremiah's hive to arrive later today and the _Daedalus_ tomorrow. At that point, we'll start gathering delegates and moving them to the summit location."

"It will be good to finally get some of the talking into the open."

"And see how the gathered representatives respond to each other." Mister Woolsey considers this for a moment before returning his attention to Teyla. "Well, I wish you an uneventful day."

Teyla laughs. "One can only hope." She turns and they both notice that Sara has been listening.

Sara realizes that she was spying, but she raises her chin and refuses to admit wrong. "Are you ready to depart?" she asks Teyla.

Teyla raises an eyebrow at her. "Indeed." She trades a look Sara can't parse with Mister Woolsey, who appears to be fighting a smile.

Sara returns to the lower level and watches as the Portal of the Ancestors explodes outward in an expulsion of water until it melts into a shimmering pool that stands in the air. Sara looks at it with awe. It is so close, and she could walk up and touch it. She will touch it, pass through it. She's only traveled through the portal once, and she'd been so distracted by Gift's wound. She hadn't paid attention that time, but this time there is little to divert her attention.

Teyla smiles at her patiently, but Sara knows that this is a thing commonplace to everyone else and ducks her head, ready to step forward into the portal.

"You are not alone in thinking it wondrous," Teyla murmurs, and when Sara looks at her, she nods to where Tiburon and Alejandro are also watching the portal raptly. "It is a thing that is rarely taken for granted."

Sara nods, but continues forward, striding confidently to the portal. She doesn't flinch as she steps into it.

She does close her eyes and clench her fists. There is nothing between her and the strangeness of the portal.

It may look like water, but it doesn't feel wet. When she steps forward and finds herself on a different planet she feels disoriented for a moment, her stomach moving in her uneasily, but it settles quickly. Gift and Teyla had preceded her, and the others arrive quickly after.

There is a strange device waiting before the portal, and Sara looks at it curiously. When she walks around to its other side she recognizes the face of it from the briefings before their trip.

"This is the DHD," Teyla says, and Sara nods. "When you press the symbols, it will activate the portal." She indicates the symbols that would return them to Atlantis. "But do not pass through the portal without sending your signal first," she warns.

Sara nods again. Amelia and Sergeant Jennings had briefed her on the many rules for travel by the portal. "I remember that the shield must be lowered before passing through to Atlantis." Sara sees Teyla looking at Gift, and so she adds, "And Gift remembers how to behave."

Gift had been blinking up at the sky, face raised to the wind of a strange planet, and he turns to them now with his lip curled in silent affront. Sara is surprised when he also speaks. "I will not bring harm to any here," he says softly.

"I know," Teyla replies. "Else I would not have allowed your presence." She gives a tight smile and then turns to address the Wraithlings. "Sergeant Nichols will go with you to Jinto's dwelling, Tiburon."

Tiburon nods. Sara is curious about the box he holds, but he has already said he will not open it until in his friend's presence. Sara is torn as to whether she should go with him or follow Teyla.

In the end, she follows Teyla.

Teyla is headed to where the marketplace is set up. There is a large area near the Athosian settlement where there is an open plain, and Amelia told her how the Athosians, who usually trade for everything they need, have begun a tradition of a market day before the new moon when traders from other worlds can come and display their goods. Sara is excited to see it.

And, coming out from between some trees to see it laid out before her, Sara doesn't think she's seen so many people in one place since the ship. There are humans _everywhere_ , moving past each other and talking to each other, laughing and yelling, touching and being touched and without fear. There are men and women sitting beside spread cloths or sitting on small benches or with full covered stalls where they are selling their wares; there is even a smith who is working in a forge she set up, the forge in back while a woman who seems to be her wife is selling wares from the front of the temporary smithy.

It's glorious, and Sara almost doesn't want to breathe because she thinks she might break it. It reminds her of Before- it reminds her of the way that the idea of home felt before the ship. She reaches for Gift's hand and holds his fingers between hers.

Gift follows behind her as she steps into the market. He is tense, but when the people see him and what he is they do not call alarm or raise weapons. Many watch him, wary and alert, as Ronon Dex always is when they are in Atlantis.

Sara moves slowly and soon loses track of Teyla. She wants to look at everything. Her eyes roam over brightly-dyed cloth, and stones strung on cords for her neck, and woven rushes formed into baskets, and carved bone handle knives, and metal bowls for cooking, and wooden objects she does not always know uses for.

She pauses by one booth and admires a skinning knife. The wide, short blade would have made skinning their kills so much easier, rather than Gift having to do the work with their longer blade and his clawed nails. She is past a need for such a thing now, but still, it calls to her. The artisan watches her with unfriendly eyes, and so Sara sets the knife down and moves on.

"Greetings," a woman on the next row of blankets set out like impromptu stalls calls out to Sara. She has long, dark hair that has only a gentle wave to it rather than a pronounced curl like Sara's, and she is stringing beads of jet onto a length of twine.

"Greetings!" Sara says back eagerly. Others have smiled at her, but none have spoken to her while Gift stands at her back. "I am Sara."

The woman smiles. "I know. Teyla spoke of your coming so that none would be alarmed by your Gift." Her eyes rest on Gift, but she watches him with curiosity rather than fearfulness. "I am Elynara," the woman says.

"Everyone knows who I am?" Sara is disappointed by that, though she's not sure why. She is used to being known; since she has gained Gift she has been known by all as _the girl who is with the Wraith_. The Bola Kai hated her for it, though the response of the Lanteans has usually been curiosity. She hopes the Athosians’ responses will be, overall, more like the Lanteans'.

Elynara nods. And she must be as intelligent as she is beautiful for she says nothing more of it. "Have you seen anything to catch your fancy so far?" She holds up the string of black oblong stones she is threading. She is wearing a similar string of oblong stones of blue and green around her neck, and there are shining pieces of abalone shell dangling from her ears.

"Your earrings are beautiful," Sara says shyly.

Elynara smiles. "Thank you. It is rare that I am able to trade with the sea folk, so I saved these shells for my own pleasure instead of selling them." She studies Sara a moment, then reaches down and plucks from the cloth a string of shiny brown topaz that ripple with shades of russet and gold. "Something that brings out the color of your eyes," she offers, "or do you think something bolder?" She sets down the stones she is stringing and lifts a string of large brilliant blue stones polished to a shine, each one almost half the size of Sara's fist and wrapped in strands of twine that spread against the blue in contrast.

Sara shakes her head and points to a string of paler white and green stones.

"Touch it," Elynara urges her, and Sara does so. She releases her hold on Gift's fingers to reach for the strand of stones.

When she lifts the stones, she sees the way the green is veined all through the translucent white of the stone. Each stone is different, some with more green and some with more white, and some with threads through them that look gold as well. Sara plays the string of stones over her hands and to her they are the color of Wraith skin.

Elynara is smiling quietly. "I made that because it reminded me of someone," she says.

Sara immediately puts it down. "I'm sorry."

Elynara shakes her head in denial of offense. "I have been given a mandate- to everyone I meet I should tell the story of how a Wraith saved my life. But it is a story I think you already know."

Sara gasps at her. "Yes," she says breathlessly.

Elynara grins. She gestures to the necklace of stones. "Do you like it?"

Sara shakes her own head sadly. "I don't have any coin." Amelia had assured her that Atlantis would provide for her, and Teyla had said that if she saw anything she needed she should only say so. But a string of beautiful stones is not a need. She won't bother Teyla about such a thing.

Elynara frowns. "You came to a market without anything to trade?" She makes a derisive noise in her throat. "Here." She reaches into her box of loose stones and pulls out a small handful of the green and white stones. She effortlessly strings them on a length of the thick twine of the kind that was wrapped around the blue stones and ties some knots in it. "I find the full strings a bit much," she mutters as she works, "but it's what sells. Try this." She holds out the finished product, a length of the twine with three of the green-white stones knotted in place on it.

"I can't," Sara says. "I really don't have any money." But it really is beautiful. Three stones aren't many; it can't be too expensive. "How much?"

Elynara grins. "A gift, for my friend, Sara."

Sara shakes her head again in denial, but Elynara holds the string out to Gift. "Here, Wraith," she says. Gift looks up sharply, teeth bared automatically. Elynara regards him with a raised eyebrow. "Put it on her," she commands.

Gift reaches out with his left hand and takes the string from Elynara's hand. He stands holding it for a moment, his eyes shifting from the string to Elynara and holding there for a moment until he inclines his head to her. He drapes the strand over Sara's head.

Sara takes hold of one of the green-white stones and holds it between her fingers until it begins to grow warmer. "Thank you," she says softly.

Elynara grins. "Selana!" she calls, and three of the merchants near them who were listening intently all jump; Sara isn't sure which of them Elynara was addressing. "You need something new to wear," Elynara advises Sara. "Selana has some beautiful things."

"I really couldn't," Sara protests.

Elynara waves her hand. "Selana," she calls, "You will put it on my husband's account with Atlantis." She grins and one of the other women laughs.

"That I will do," the woman who must be Selana says. "Come, child. I usually sell dyed thread for others to weave, but I do have some pieces that might work for you."

Sara is intrigued and she walks over to look at Selana's wares; she's been used to wearing leather and hide for so long the idea of woven garments that aren't in the Lantean's harsh styles is appealing. As said, Selana’s wares consist mostly of spools of thread dyed in brilliant colors. The featured color is a deep red that is also reflected in the majority of the items of clothing. There are a trio of loose blouses with lacing at the wrist and bosom, and two others of a style that has lacing all the way up the arm. But Sara's attention is pulled to a pair of dresses. One is blue, and the other is the featured deep red. Each features a fitted bodice, with lacing to adjust the size, and long sweeping skirts. The blue one is lovely, but there is a vibrance and a depth to the color of the red that is unlike the even shades of the clothing on Atlantis and Sara's fingers are drawn to the fabric. Sara feels the softness of the cloth against her fingers. "Who is your husband?" she asks Elynara curiously.

Elynara grins. Gift is still standing in front of her spread wares and she hands him one of the green-white stones she had used in Sara's necklace, dropping it into his left hand. "It is a complicated story," she says.

Sara frowns. "Complicated?"

Selana laughs. "More complicated than the usual way one gains a husband." She confides to Sara, "There’s a Wraith involved."

"What!" Sara looks up excitedly.

Elynara waves a hand at Selana as if to chastise her for bringing it up. "It is the story that you didn’t need to hear,” she explains to Sara. “But I will tell you the version that I do not usually tell. Wraith came to my world to cull, but one of them spared me. I have seen him since- he is the one called Todd by Atlantis. When he spared my life, he said it was because of Sheppard. So, when the other survivors of the culling used this opportunity to steal my mother’s farm, which was on land considered too good for women to handle, and had us cast out, I appealed to Atlantis in Sheppard’s name."

Sara frowns. "John cannot be your husband. I have seen him with Todd."

Elynara’s eyebrows rise up her forehead. "I did wonder if that was the reason," she muses.

Selana snorts.

Elynara rolls her eyes at Selana. "In any case, Sheppard offered to pay for myself and my mother to get established elsewhere, but after he left I met with Mister Woolsey, and he said he would open an account for my expenses and that I should feel quite free to make as much or as little use of it as I felt necessary."

"The Lanteans have strange ideas about pairings," Gift says, his voice a rumble against the background of the market. Elynara and Selana are slightly startled to hear him. "It is known among Wraith that the Commander of Many Hives will give much for Sheppard," Gift continues. "But it serves the Lantean Commander that their distant rulers believe Sheppard is sworn to a woman."

Elynara nods. "I suspected Mister Woolsey’s offer was more politically motivated than Sheppard’s, but I wasn’t of a mind to care. Mister Woolsey said I should speak of it as much or as little as I wished, that Atlantis would be my ‘husband’ if I had need of that defense, or if I wished to be released then he could change the words written in their database." She shrugs. "I have no interest in attaining a husband that is any more present than the one I currently have, so it has worked thus far. Can I put that moss stone on a string for you, Wraith?"

Gift crouches and sets the stone he holds down on her cloth, touching one finger to the string of brown topaz Elynara had said were the color of Sara's eyes.

"Gift!" Sara protests, but Elynara laughs.

"He has good taste," Elynara says.

"The smaller stones," Gift replies. "I will take five." He pauses, cocking his head to the side. He runs a hand through the length of his hair contemplatively.

Elynara nods. "The smaller ones will fit in the hair better," she observes. "You did mean to braid them in your hair, and not just on a strand?" She pushes a finger through her box of loose stones and makes a dissatisfied noise when she doesn't find what she is looking for. Lifting the long strand of brown topaz, she cuts one of the ends off of the string.

Sara makes a small noise of strangled horror. "You do not need to destroy your wares to make things for us!" she protests.

"Do not worry yourself," Selana advises her. "As you heard, Elynara is well cared for. She can afford to spare some gifts for you and your Wraith." She makes a face as if she's just realizing how it works and says, "Gifts for your Gift." She chuckles. "Do you like the red dress?" she asks, trying to turn Sara's attention.

But Sara is too captivated to give Selana an answer. The way that Elynara cuts off the ends of the strand of topaz and then ties off the string's ends again, her hands sure and confident as they work, is mesmerizing. When Elynara has a handful of smaller topaz stones she holds them out to Gift. One of the other girls near them gasps, a shrill noise in her throat, when Gift reaches out with his left hand and touches Elynara's palm. Elynara exhales, a long slow breath that reveals she is not as calm as she wishes to be. One by one, Gift selects five stones from Elynara's hand, dropping them onto his own right palm. His right hand is held palm up close to his body; the feeding slit is closed, a thin latched line when it is not in use. The merchants nearby, and those who bring their custom also, have stopped pretending they are doing anything other than watching him intently.

"These will do," Gift says when he has the five stones he wants. As if it is an afterthought, he adds, "My thanks."

"I can braid them in for you," Elynara offers. Gift looks at her sharply and they stare at each other for a long moment before Gift nods. He kneels on the corner of her spread cloth and she takes the stones in trembling hands as she reaches out to touch Gift's hair.

Sara wants to go back over to Gift, but she is so pleased by what he is doing, speaking and interacting with someone else, that she thinks this must be because of his healing mind and she does not want to hinder him in any way, so she remains frozen where she is.

"Well," Selana says, her voice only slightly shaky, "you've got the artist going. She'll never let you go until she's satisfied with the product." Some of the other merchants laugh tensely and Elynara makes a disparaging noise. "Come, child," Selana urges Sara. "We'll get you dressed up as well. Come, come," she gestures to some of the other merchants, "I need a square." Four young women jump up, each shaking out a large, thick cloth and holding them corner to corner, creating a room of four closed sides in the middle of the open market. "Step in and try the dress. I didn't bring an extra chemise, but your Lantean shirt will do well enough, and the skirts are heavy so that no one will notice the lack."

Sara doesn't want to turn her attention from Gift, but he raises his eyes to her from where he is kneeling under Elynara's hands, and his expression is soft and amused. Sara had held his hand in the market earlier because she didn't want him to get overwhelmed; she realizes now that he had been allowing her to hold on to him so that _she_ didn't get overwhelmed. She ducks her head and goes to try the dress.

The red dress fits over her blue Lantean shirt, and the skirts fall all the way to the ground; she suspects they're meant to only come to her ankles, but she does like the weight and length of them. Sara hasn't worn a real dress since Before.  She steps out from between the blankets, the little room coming down as she shakes out the skirts.

"It fits well," one of the other women says as she helps Sara pull tight the laces of the bodice. The sleeves come midway down her forearms. "That's so you can wear many bracelets," the woman says with a grin. "When you dance, they will jangle," she explains when Sara is perplexed. "To attract attention, hmm?" Sara is still wondering what she's talking about, but Selana interrupts.

"The red suits you," Selana says, shaking out the blue dress. "But do you like it? You can try the blue as well."

Sara shakes her head in denial and smooths her hands over the skirts. "I like the red," she admits.

"Come," the other woman says. "You need your hair done as well. Farbel," she gestures to one of the young women, "bring me that spare moss stone and I'll weave it in her hair."

Farbel giggles loudly as she darts close to where Gift is sitting patiently and picks up the stone he left on the cloth. She brings the stone to the other woman who sits behind Sara and brushes out her hair. It's too curly to lie flat, but the woman threads some strands through the hole in the stone and then weaves it into the middle of a braid at the back of Sara's head. She can't see it, but the other women say it looks well.

"When you return to the city of the Ancestors make them show you where they have a chamber of two mirrors," Selana advises. "Then you can see the back of your head."

That seems a wondrous impossible thing but Sara vows she will remember to do so.

And by the time the Athosian merchants are done reminiscing about places in the city of the Ancestors, Elynara is done with Gift's hair.

It is just a handful of hair at the left side of his forehead. The strands are braided in a complicated plait of five pieces, and each strand has one of the stones worked into it in a loose pattern.

Elynara leans back, satisfied. Gift nods to her and raises his left hand to tuck the long strands behind his ear, so that the woven stones fall against his temple.

"I will remember you," Gift says, the words soft but carrying as he rests his eyes on each of the merchants.

Elynara holds up her hand as if to say that it's not necessary, but Selana nods. "We will remember too, and make note of it," Selena says to Gift.

"Thank you, all," Sara says in her turn, and the merchants smile at her. They press new sandals on her to go with her new dress and, by the time she goes out to finish looking at the rest of the market, she feels strange. She feels new, but also like she did Before, and that makes her feel young, not old enough to have survived the challenges that lie now behind her.

"You are pleased," Gift says to her, and Sara smiles.

"I am," she admits. "It is nice to have something beautiful that I didn't have to make myself."

Gift huffs a soft laugh. "It is a nice dress," he says, with a craftsman's eye himself. "She is right, the color 'suits' you."

Sara grins, leaning against him. "We will find something better to trade her and get you some thread and cloth and you could make me a dress," she suggests.

Gift bares his teeth in a silent laugh. "I am more familiar with the materials I have used to make your clothing previously."

Sara nods with exaggerated gravity. "I have enjoyed wearing them." She twirls her skirts. "So, this is a good dress?"

Gift nods. "Selana makes good cloth; the weave is even, and the color is rich. The dress is well made, with flat seams and small stitching." He frowns. "I would make you a dress of _acium_ ," he says softly. "Were we on a hive, and I access to the thread."

Sara takes his hand. "I would wear it proudly, my Gift."

 

They walk around the rest of the market. There is an area reserved for those who sell foodstuffs and it smells like goats, creatures Sara is surprised to discover she finds uniformly unpleasant.

But there is another area that smells like memories.

Sara follows a scent she caught on the wind until it brings her to a stall where a dish full of sand and ash has some flower buds burning on the embers. It smells like her mother's house and Sara can't speak from the way her throat is closed up.

The merchant steps out of the back of the stall and startles when he sees them, but he must know who she is, as everyone does, because he bows his head stiffly and tries not to stare at Gift.

"What is this scent?" Sara is finally able to say.

"It is made from dried flowers of the evergreens from the world of Choji," the man says. He sees the emotion on her face and asks, "Do you know it?"

Sara wipes her tears away. "My mother would burn the flower buds," she says. "On the shrine she kept on the wall. I... It had something to do with her sister." She'd been so young, and she hadn't cared at the time. She hadn't known that it would matter, later, when she couldn't ask.

The merchant nods. "Household shrineshelves are common on Choji, which is why the spice and its scent are known on many worlds," he says. He moves some items around on a shelf in his booth as he speaks. "The spirithouse is central to the shrine, for it is where the spirit resides. Offerings are arranged- water, food, and incense. The shine allows the penitent to make offerings and remembrances to the spirits from their home, instead of journeying to other shrines. For the spirits live with us."

As he speaks, the objects he describes take shape before Sara's eyes. "Yes," she murmurs. "Where can I find the things I need to create such a shrine?"

He beckons her into his stall. "I can get you started. You will need a bowl for the embers, and a tray for the offerings. Some flowers to burn, for the incense. The shrineshelf need not be affixed to the wall, but it must be in a place of honor. An embroidered cloth may help to set aside the sacred space.

"But," he continues, "the power of a shrine comes from the spirithouse, the object that allows for focus of worship and connects the penitent to the spirits."

Sara nods, but privately she despairs. There is nothing left that connects her to her mother and her mother's people.

The merchant turns and hands her a package. "We ourselves are connected to the spirits," he says to her gently. "Perhaps a lock of hair? Or a demonstration of a skill passed on to you from the ones who came before? On Choji many like to embroider the cover for the shrineshelf themselves, or only burn flower buds they collected and dried themselves."

Sara nods eagerly. She holds the box tightly. "I do not have any money," she says carefully, and the merchant frowns- not angrily, but as if he is calculating which of the items he can afford to give to her. Sara continued hopefully, for she truly wants this, "But Elynara said to say that her husband's account with Atlantis will pay for many things."

The merchant smiles. "I know Elynara, and I will bring the bill to her husband's agent." He bows his head to Sara. "Worship your ancestors in peace." He looks up and narrows his eyes at Gift in anger.

Gift only steps back and bows his head.

"Gift is my past and my future," Sara tries to defend him. "Without him, I would not be here to remember those who went before me."

The merchant gives a long, hard look at Gift. "The Wraith are what took my family from me," he says.

"But not Gift," Sara replies. "Men killed my family, but not you."

The merchant makes a thoughtful noise before saying, "I understand what Teyla Emmagan is trying to build. And I will be pleased if the Wraith no longer come to cull. But I do not think I can ever look at them and not remember the fear and sorrow of the day my husband was taken from me."

"I mourn with thee," Sara says, words called from within her somewhere.

The merchant's expression softens, seemingly unwillingly. "Your people _are_ from Choji," he observes.

"I don't think so," Sara says frankly, "but I do not remember." Sara is caught between the memory of her mother's shrine and trying to place other fragments in her mind, so rather than conversing she bows her head to the merchant. "Thank you."

"Thank you for your custom," he replies with a small bow of his own.

 

Sara walks back into the market. She is still wearing her new dress, but, with the heavy parcel under her arm, she feels contemplative rather than joyful as she pauses near the edge of the flow of people and watches them for a moment.

Gift brushes her hair lightly and she turns to him, throwing her arms around him and pressing her face to his chest.

Gift relaxes into her touch and croons softly to her. "You are unhappy," he rumbles softly. "But... not with me?"

She looks up at him, startled. "No, Gift! Why would I be unhappy with you?"

He hums softly, the sound shaking her bones pleasantly where she is leaned against him. "You are among other humans now. You are not in danger. If I was not Wraith, they would accept you more easily." He looks away from her. "It has been said before, that I would be better if I was not as I am."

Sara feels that these words deserve more attention than she can give to them. She reaches and touches the stone beads braided in his hair. "You are who you are, as you are," she says. "I would have you no other way than as I have known you."

Gift closes his eyes and bends down to press his face against her collarbone. "You are my queen," he says desperately, "but I know more and more each day that whereas before my need for you saved us both, it now holds you back from being with others. From seeking a partner and a family."

"What of you?" Sara challenges. "Have you no desires, Gift? Things you would pursue now that we are free? Things that I hold you back from?"

He shakes his head but will not look at her.

Sara sighs and takes a few steps back to a bench that is situated under a tree, out of the way of the market. It is oddly placed, like someone set it down and forgot it, but she makes use of it, sitting down herself and pulling Gift down beside her, her right hand clasped with his left.

Gift rests his head on her shoulder and sighs. "My mind would not think of it, and you were too young. That is why I have not spoken of this in words that are clear until now. Wraith do not pairbond the way that humans do, usually. There is enough in being in the hive. It is... enough." Gift looks as though he is not certain if this explanation is enough, but Sara nods, remembering the words that Todd had said when they began Gift's healing and comparing them with the things that Gift had been able to tell her.

"Your hive has each other, in your minds, all the time," Sara says slowly, feeling it out. "This is a feeling of community that humans do not have, and so humans try to fill themselves with many different bonds. But some Wraith do pairbond," she points out.

"Yes," Gift acknowledges. "Sometimes temporarily, and sometimes for much longer periods of devotion. It does happen." He sighs and acknowledges, "So, even among Wraith I am considered odd for wanting nothing of this." He appears to be reaching for words. "The hive all around me, holding my thoughts is enough. I do not want them to be... closer. As we are now," he holds Sara's hand, "is all I desire of intimacy."

Sara nods, but asks tentatively, "This is not because of... of what happened?"

"No. It is separate." Gift shudders against her. "It perhaps made that situation worse."

Sara holds his hand tightly. "I wish I could help you, protect you, truly be your queen," she says fiercely.

Gift slides from the bench to kneel facing her. "Sara," he says clearly. He rarely says her name, and she looks into his eyes. "You have saved me." He touches her hair lightly. "Your mind was opened to me when there was no one else. I would have died without the anchor of your thoughts. Believe this."

Sara nods. Gift brushes the threat of tears from her eyes and smiles at her.

"You restored me to true hive," Gift continues, bowing his head to her. "Do not let me keep you from anything you want."

"I want you to be happy," Sara whispers. She thinks about it, because Gift deserves her full honesty, "I don't know if there's anything else I want. I haven't thought there was anything else at all. But I just now remembered my mother, and I want to build a shrine for her spirit- for my father as well, and for the woman I never knew who was my mother's sister." She's not sure how to do this, but she's certain, "I want this."

Gift nods. "Then I will help you to attain this."

Sara takes his face between her hands and leans her forehead to his. "Gift," she murmurs. "I'm pleased that you are doing better." The words feel not enough, but the joy in her has overcome her sorrow and she knows he can feel the truth of that.

"It is pleasing to be better," he replies with a smile.

 

A large, wet splat draws Sara's attention, and she looks up to see a frog-like creature has jumped into the dirt near them. It rolls its eyes at them and jumps again, taking itself further away from the market and into a patch of reeds.

Gift bares his teeth at the creature. "What is that doing here?"

"What is it?" Sara asks. She hears a commotion behind them; turning to look she sees Tiburon and a young man looking around and under objects, perhaps as if looking for a frog-like creature.

"It is called a _ranaes_ ," Gift says. "They live on the hive, performing tasks to aid in the life system of the hive." He shakes his head in disapproval, the stone beads clacking in his long hair as he stands to go after the creature. "It is very lost to be here."

"Tiburon!" Sara calls. "Are you looking for a creature?"

The young Wraith glances up, and he and the human run over. "It got away," Tiburon says excitedly. "Have you seen it?" the young man echoes.

Sara points toward the reeds. The young man says something that sounds like an oath and darts off after it, Tiburon following more slowly.

Gift is following them as well, and, curious, Sara trails after. She leaves her parcel on the bench.

By the time she catches them up, Tiburon is standing in a river of water, holding the creature around its center while the young man looks at it, pokes it, and then takes it from him.

"Where did you get it?" Sara asks, coming closer.

The young man holds the creature toward her, and Sara leans in to inspect it. Reaching out a hand she touches the creature and is surprised to find that it is cool to the touch. Other than its long, powerful legs, it doesn't truly resemble the frogs in the pond on her and Gift's planet, or the planet she'd lived on before. Its eyes are on stalks that allow it to turn them to look in every direction, and its color is grey rather than brown. Its feet have long, feathery toes that are almost as long again as its legs. The toes spread out against the air as if seeking purchase. It coughs slime on her hands and squirms in the young man's grip.

The young man seems impressed that Sara has any interest in the creature and says, "Tiburon brought it. I'm Jinto."

"I am Sara," she replies. She smiles at Tiburon. "This was your gift?"

Tiburon pulls himself out of the river. "It was much quieter on the hive," he grumbles.

"It is too warm here," Gift tells him, and Jinto jumps, not having heard Gift approach. "The creature is looking for a cool, moist place, where it can groom the _mundpellis_ , as is its preference when stressed."

Tiburon frowns against Gift's judgmental tone. "I'm not going to _leave_ it here, I just borrowed it from the hive before the Commander left so that I could show it to Jinto."

Jinto is holding the creature between him and Gift like a shield. He is wary but appears to be trying to convince himself that he doesn't need to be.

"May I see it?" Sara asks and Jinto passes the creature to her with a sort of stunned amazement.

It is large enough that she can't quite fit both of her hands around it, and it struggles against her grip. "Be still," she commands it, and Gift chuckles when it doesn't listen. She hands it back to Jinto quickly. "My hands are too small to hold it all the way around."

Jinto stares at her then shakes his head. "Most people don't like Wraith things," he explains his wonder. "Everyone else was a little scared of it."

Sara can see some reasoning in that. "I know the Wraith are very much feared among most peoples of the galaxy.” She frowns. “But your slimy creature is not frightening.”

Jinto laughs, and he and Tiburon put the creature back into its container. Gift comes over and strokes the creature's head until it calms down. He explains to Jinto and Tiburon, "The _ranaes_ is used to the outer reaches of the hive, where it is cooler, much darker, and the air is full of moisture. You will need to keep it moist and dark, or else it will seek a place that is better suited to it. On the hive, when we need to harvest the _mundpellis_ , we coax the _ranaes_ to move by brushing them with slender threads of the _acium_." Jinto and Tiburon look guilty, and Sara suspects that they had been encouraging it in this way when the creature had escaped them. "But if you stroke their faces here," Gift demonstrates, "this is what they do to each other to say that all is well, and they become calm."

They all crowd around and take turns stroking the creature, but the sun is setting on them and Alejandro and Sergeant Nichols and Halling, who Sara learns is Jinto's father, come and urge the rest of the group to return to the village center in time for an evening festival.

Tiburon carries the creature in its enclosed container, and Sara gathers her package from the bench, and they set both items in the dark place behind where they themselves can sit and see what is happening. There is a fire, and food cooking, and there are musicians tuning instruments, and people talking loudly and happily. Alejandro looks exhausted by the events of the day even without having been party to the chase after the _ranaes_ , and he sits beside Gift, leaning against the older Wraith tiredly and trusting him to be more alert.

Sara sits on Alejandro's other side, and Tiburon and Jinto bring all of them bowls of tava stew to eat, though Gift declines, and Sara goes and brings all of them frybread to eat as well, and she likes it so much she goes back to get more.

There are people all around, dancing to the music, or sitting in smaller groups and talking, or listening to others talk, and there are others, like her, who are coming to the place near the fire to get more of the food, and the drink, cups of a rich wine being passed around freely. Sara takes a sip but frowns at the taste and passes it up after.

Sara sees faces she knows: Selana is sitting with a man, sharing one bowl of stew and one cup of wine between them; Elynara is laughing as she talks with another merchant; Parker Nichols is sitting next to Halling and they seem to be conversing deeply. As Sara makes her way back to her seat, she sees Teyla across the fire with her son, Torren, a child barely walking.

Once back to her seat, Sara hands out the frybread to Tiburon and Jinto; Alejandro is already half asleep, curled on his side while Gift strokes his hair softly.

Teyla is holding Torren up as he walks, balancing on his small feet, shuffling one foot in front of the other as his mother guides him around the fire. Torren exclaims excitedly when he sees Tiburon and makes a questioning noise at Gift. "Rate," he pronounces firmly.

"Wraith," Teyla corrects, and Torren giggles. "He is in fine form tonight," Teyla observes wryly. "The day's excitement has been very stimulating."

Sara grins at Torren. Torren is looking at Gift, and he turns and says to Sara, "Kweensala?"

Sara is shocked when she understands that he is trying to say her name. "I am Sara, and I am Gift's queen." She realizes, "He is like you," she looks at Teyla. "He can hear the Wraith."

Teyla nods. "His father and I both are Wraithkin," she says, though she doesn't explain what that means. Her eyes are heavy with import as they rest on her son. "His power may be even stronger than ours."

"Not stronger than yours," Gift replies. Teyla looks at him warningly and he raises his left hand from Alejandro's hair to spread it in a disarming gesture. "Humans are not Wraith, but you are still a queen and have a queen's power when you speak and when you command. He will train it from a younger age, but he will never have your control."

Teyla nods. "That is comfort and trepidation both," she says.

Gift bows his head, but then he suddenly stands up, his eyes fixed on the sky above them. Alejandro is startled awake, he and Tiburon also look upward and hiss softly.

"What is it?" Teyla demands, even as she turns her own face skyward. "I feel-"

"A hive," Gift says. "A Queen. Her Wraith are hungry. She comes to cull."

Teyla's expression darkens. "New Athos is a member of the alliance. Wraith do not cull here."

Gift ignores her, standing for a moment as if frozen, caught in the thrall of this distant queen. Sara snatches his hand in hers. Gift's eyes shift to her and he almost doesn't recognize her- for the passing of a heartbeat his lip is curled at Sara in a snarl, but then he remembers and drops to his knees, his forehead pressed to her collarbone in mute apology. She puts her arm around his head, but she turns to Teyla.

"What must we do?"

Teyla is already turning away, but she turns back to Sara. "Get to the gate," she says. "Call Atlantis and tell them what is happening."

Sara nods. "Gift," she calls to him. He is the swiftest here- excepting Ronon Dex, she does not know a human that can outrun a Wraith. He rises with her on his back, her legs clamped to his sides.

Teyla is calling, "There is a hive coming! Please assist the people around you and move to the gate, and to the sheltered areas!"

Gift flies through the darkness, and Sara glimpses shadows to Gift's side. When he halts at the DHD device she realizes they are Tiburon and Alejandro. Their faces raised to Gift are fearful. He pulls them to him and motions Sara to dial the gate.

She presses the symbols and enters the code on the device given to her. The device beeps when it receives the return code, and she runs through the portal. "New Athos is being culled!" she yells. "There is a hive, come quickly!" She would almost turn and run back through the portal, but Gift and the Wraithlings followed her through and the portal disengages.

Colonel Caldwell jogs down the stairs toward them. "A hive? At New Athos?" He touches the communicator at his ear. "I need four strike teams ready in jumpers, on the double!" He frowns at Sara as if he doubts her words. "New Athos is protected by the alliance."

Sara is about to reply with anger, but she is distracted by the appearance of a Wraith standing on the upper level, beside Woolsey's office. His skin is vibrantly green, and his shoulders are bare without a coat.

Caldwell turns quickly to Latisha at the gate technician station and says, "Dial them back, we'll send through what aid we can before we open the gate for refugees." Latisha nods, dialing the gate.

"This Queen," Gift says abruptly, "she is the one you call the Devourer." He is looking at the Wraith on the upper level.

Caldwell scowls. "That explains some things."

Gift bares his teeth and looks away. "She is on the hive that comes. She will feed her Wraith, but she wishes also to punish those who would defy her."

The Wraith from the upper level comes down to stand with them. "She will send out darts to release her Wraith on the ground rather than use the darts to cull," he says. "It is her way."

Caldwell nods. "Where are my strike teams?" he says loudly.

Ronon Dex arrives, with Gabriel St Cyr and Santiago Alvarez and others. Caldwell urges all of them off to the side as the ceiling opens and one of the jumper craft lowers itself into the gateroom. "You're clear, Jumper One," Caldwell says, and the vessel passes through the gate. "Jumper Two, whenever you're ready." Caldwell turns to Ronon. "Gift was able to give the Athosians some warning that the hive was coming, but since we're holding the gate to send reinforcements, they've nowhere to go."

Ronon nods. "We'll go, then drop it and we'll dial back."

Caldwell nods.

"I will send Wraith with you from my hive," the strange Wraith says. "To defend the alliance."

Ronon halts and stares at him. "No," he says shortly.

The Wraith bares his teeth in a snarl.

Before an argument can begin, Sara orders, "Gift! Go with them to help the Athosians."

Gift immediately strides toward the portal.

"Wait!" St Cyr calls, but he only jogs over to Gift and passes him his Lantean jacket. "Take this, to help prevent friendly fire."

Gift bows his head and drops his own leather coat on the floor as he puts on the jacket.

St Cyr locks eyes with Ronon and heads with Gift toward the Gate.

Ronon snarls wordlessly and follows with Alvarez.

"We can't hold the portal very long," Caldwell is saying to the strange Wraith. "They'll need to dial out to have somewhere to go."

The Wraith nods. "I will go through now. My hive is prepared to leave anyway and will arrive at the location within the hour in hopes that they may engage in the battle against the Ancient One's foes!" He waits for the second jumper to pass through the portal and then moves to pass through himself.

"Jeremiah," Caldwell says to him, taking off his own coat and passing it to him. "Watch out."

The Wraith, Jeremiah, grins and gives a deep bow of his head as he takes the coat before he turns and strides through the portal.

Sara stands with her arms around Tiburon and Alejandro. Caldwell turns and remembers her.

"You don't want to go back?" he asks.

Sara shakes her head. "The middle of a culling is no place for those who have never seen true combat." She means that the Wraithlings are very much still children, and they need a steadying presence to be calm. She doesn't mind being that presence; she has no need to prove herself in fighting Wraith.

Caldwell nods. There is a group of three more men jogging through the portal. Caldwell touches his ear. "That's it, we're out of time. Dropping the gate in three, two, one." He motions to Latisha and the gate winks out.

"Jeremiah's hive has left orbit, Colonel," Latisha adds, though Caldwell only nods.

They wait to see if the gate returns. Sara goes and picks up Gift's coat from the floor, passing it to Tiburon to hold so that her arms are free to wrap around both of them.

Caldwell stands with tension in every line of his body, until the symbols glow and the portal connects. "It's New Athos," Latisha confirms. "Captain St Cyr's code." She lowers the shield for the refugees.

Sara recognizes many of them from the market and the feast afterward. Selana comes to her. She looks distraught but says, "I'm glad to see you well, child." She reaches to pat Sara's shoulder but ends up patting Alejandro instead and doesn't look upset by this.

Sara lets herself and the young Wraith be washed into a hallway with the other refugees. The refugees are tense and unhappy but allow themselves to be directed, with the feeling of people who've done this before. Sara is sitting against a wall, Tiburon on one side and Alejandro on the other. Jinto comes over to sit with them. Sara looks for Halling and sees him speaking with Caldwell.

"You forgot the _ranaes_ on the planet," Alejandro says dejectedly.

Tiburon frowns.

"We'll go back for it," Jinto says assuredly, but his face does not look so assured.

Sara remembers her own package, the items for her mother’s shrine. She sighs; it is less than the value of their lives. She has the memory of the incense now, but she will have to begin again to set up the shrine.

"I saw Gift, on the planet," Jinto says hesitantly. "He attacked the Wraith that was chasing me and told me to get to the gate."

"Gift is strong, he will be safe," Sara says calmly, because how can she do anything else?

More time passes and Comhar appears. He converses with Caldwell and Halling and then walks over to where Sara sits. He crouches down, reaching to rest a hand on Tiburon's head. "I am pleased that you are well," he says, looking at Alejandro. "You may come with me if you wish, or you may stay here with your friends." He pronounces the human word with confidence but with a particular accent, as if he's not sure of it yet.

Tiburon is pressed between Sara and Jinto and he says, "We will stay."

Sara is stroking Alejandro's hair, his head in her lap, and she nods to Comhar.

Comhar bows his head to her. "It will soon be resolved," he says with conviction. "The Ancient One will not let this queen defy her."

Sara nods, but her thoughts are on Gift, and Teyla, and Ronon, fighting on New Athos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * I saw [this picture](https://thesilicontribesman.tumblr.com/post/612897246247337984/prehistoric-jet-necklaces-mcmanus-museum-and) and totally felt this had to be the necklace of jet beads Elynara is stringing.
>   * Elynara's "moss stones" are agate, [moss](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moss_agate#/media/File%3AMossagate.pebble.750pix.jpg) or [tree](https://images.app.goo.gl/Qrc91YCgyLJBHZrh8) [agate](https://images.app.goo.gl/v1CG9ujq8ucYGwdYA). 
>   * Sara remembers her family being Shinto, by way of Pegasus; the household shrine her mother had is inspired by a Japanese kamidana.  
>  (I have done Internet research but have little real world experience with some of the cultures I'm attempting to represent in this story and would greatly appreciate readers in the know pointing out anything I get wrong.)
> 



End file.
